


boomerang, boomerang

by sarcasticfluentry



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2018-10-30 21:02:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 35,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10884882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticfluentry/pseuds/sarcasticfluentry
Summary: Artemi huffs. “I don’t know why it has to be a story.”“They’re high-profile in Chicago and neither of them is mated,” Vova says. “American media is… well, they’re very invasive when it comes to these things.”“That’s stupid, it’s just breakfast. Like I said, they’re extremely, extremely respectful - it clearly doesn’t mean anything.”“Really? Do they take the other omegas on the team out to brunch too, Tyusha?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends! I don't even want to think about all the life decisions that led me to creating this particular fic but here we are. This chapter is sort of setting the whole fic up, and then the rest of the fic is basically going to be porn. You know me.
> 
> Geno/Sid is background but I might write a chapter just for them at some point.
> 
> If you're confused about names/etc scroll to the notes at the end! Also I really hope this goes without saying but don't send this to anyone involved in the fic or anyone who knows them personally. 
> 
> Title is from "Animal" by Trey Songz. Here's my [tumblr](http://povverbottoms.tumblr.com). Hope you like the fic!

_Deadspin | Sports Medicine_

_September 15, 2015_

_THE CURIOUS CASE OF KANE AND TOEWS_

Chicago, IL _– As preseason training begins for the NHL, there are two alphas on the Chicago Blackhawks roster – for the eighth year in a row._

_Yep, you read that right, in case you’ve been living under a rock and are surprised. Alphas aren’t known for their ability to cooperate with one another, and experiments with multi-alpha rosters have been very public (and sometimes bloody) disasters for the Stars, the Flyers, and the Kings – but the Blackhawks have managed to have two high-profile, talented alphas coexist on the same team for eight years, winning three Stanley Cups in the process._

_So, how do Jonathan Toews and Patrick Kane do it? We went the full investigative route and talked to some people who know science. Even they were confused._

_“From an evolutionary perspective, Kane represents a threat to Toews’ leadership of the team,” says Dr. Walter Hirsch, an associate professor of biology at Roosevelt University. “We’ve seen alpha captains in the NHL have physical confrontations if other alphas are placed on their team, to the point where the other player is forced to transfer to a different club altogether._

_“That sort of dominance-asserting behavior is ingrained; it can’t be avoided and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. To see Toews not only tolerate Kane’s place on the team but be friendly with him and sometimes play on the same line – Toews either has extremely good control over his instincts or some sort of hormonal disorder.”_

_And what about Kane, who seems perfectly fine working under and taking orders from another alpha?_

_“Oh, almost certainly a hormonal disorder,” Hirsch says._

_Hey, maybe that explains why he doesn’t tolerate alcohol well. We took that theory and followed up on it with an endocrinologist._

_“Hormones aren’t the only factor in determining secondary sex characteristics and behavior, but it’s definitely a possibility,” says Dr. Lisa Schultz, who has her own private practice in the southwest suburbs of Chicago. “We see a wide spectrum of what’s considered typical alpha behavior, but I’ve never met a healthy alpha who readily defers leadership like that.”_

_We, of course, immediately bring up Evgeni Malkin, who acts as alternate captain for his omega mate Sidney Crosby, captain of the Pittsburgh Penguins._

_Schultz laughs. “I should clarify. Evolutionarily, alphas don’t see betas and omegas as threats to their leadership, because the physical differences between the secondary sexes used to be much more profound, with alphas being physically dominant. We’ve come to a place now where there aren’t stark differences in the muscle mass and bone structure of alpha men versus beta men versus omega men, but the instinct to view only other alphas as a threat still remains._

_“And like I said, it’s a hardwired instinct, which is what makes Kane’s case so fascinating. That sort of behavior is influenced by the adrenal glands, the testes, the venus glands – it’s a complex system and there are many different ways the body can become wired incorrectly.”_

“Jesus Christ,” Pat laughs, handing Jonny’s phone back to him before he can read any more of that garbage. “How many times can they write about this stuff before people stop wanting to read it?”

Jonny snorts. “That doctor better hope Sid doesn’t track her down next time they’re in Chicago. I wanna watch her say to Sid’s face that Malkin doesn’t take him seriously.”

Pat cracks up just imagining it. Sometimes, all he can do is laugh, or else he’ll start thinking too hard about the situation he’s gotten himself into. “What a world, man. People would rather speculate about my fucked-up glands or balls or whatever than admit that two alpha guys can be mates.”

“Especially a doctor,” says Jonny. “That’s messed up.”

Good thing they already had morning sex before Jonny found that article, because that would’ve been a total boner-killer.

Pat shrugs and rolls onto his side to snuggle up against Jonny and kiss his neck, squinting unhappily at the bright sunlight streaming through the windows. “Ugh. Can we stay home from practice today?”

“It’s the _first day,”_ Jonny says.

“And I’m already tired just thinking about it.”

Jonny sighs and shifts a little. “Don’t you want to meet your new winger?”

Pat perks up at that. He’d almost forgotten. “Oh, dude, yeah. Let’s go to practice.”

He’d spent a good portion of his summer watching game tape and getting excited about playing with Artemi Panarin, the Blackhawks’ newest acquisition from the KHL. Pat likes to think of Panarin as a personal gift to him from the front office; their playing styles are so similar that Pat can’t wait to get on the ice with him and see what the two of them can do with a puck.

“Did you take a look at that Russian phrase book I got you?” Jonny mumbles into his hair.

Pat cringes and hesitates, which Jonny must take for the _no_ that it is. “Maybe he knows some English?”

“Let’s hope so, for your sake,” says Jonny. He strokes a hand over Pat’s back. “Otherwise, how are you guys supposed to coordinate with each other on the ice?”

xxx

Jonny discovers three things when he meets Artemi Panarin.

One: he looks even more like a younger version of Pat than in pictures Jonny’s seen of him.

Seriously. His eyes are maybe a little bigger, which makes him look kind of permanently earnest, and his hair’s darker, but he looks a creepy amount like the guy that Jonny first fell in love with, which is probably the first sign that Jonny’s life is about to go through a major upheaval.

Two: Panarin speaks decent English and barely requires any assistance from Tikhonov, who seems to be acting as his translator.

“Captain!” Panarin says happily, clearly recognizing him. “Nice to meet!”

Tikhonov waves and says hello as well.

“Hey, it’s great to have you both here,” Jonny says. He holds a hand out for Tikhonov to take, then does the same for Panarin. “Artemi. Am I saying it right?”

Panarin’s mouth twitches up at one corner, and Jonny finds himself momentarily distracted by his lips, which start moving as he says something in Russian to Tikhonov.

Tikhonov grins then looks at Jonny. “He says if that’s the best you can do, then yeah, that’s right.”

Jonny barks out a laugh, delighted. “I’ll work on it.”

“No need, sure you very busy,” Panarin – Artemi – says with a smile, eyes bright.

His hand is soft.

Jonny realizes he’s still holding it and promptly lets go. “Just as busy as everyone else, right? Let’s go get changed. I’m excited to see how you play.”

Three: Jonny finally, _finally_ understands why Malkin goes apeshit whenever anyone messes with Sid on the ice.

That last realization takes the longest to sink in, because it doesn’t happen until he’s watching Pat and Artemi pass pucks back and forth, trying to see if they can get them past Hammer and Travis. Jonny’s standing off to the side with Duncs and Seabs, watching them play and marveling at their almost identical styles. He _would_ be jealous of Artemi for having such great on-ice chemistry with Pat, but he’s too fucking excited about all the defenses the Hawks are going to wreck this year.

Then Hammer manages to corner Artemi and checks him cleanly against the boards to get the puck away from him – and it’s very gentle, maybe even a little tentative in that way most of them are with brand-new teammates – but Jonny sees _red_ and feels his blood boil so hot he’s surprised he isn’t giving off steam.

He does, apparently, make some sort of noise, because Duncs cuts off mid-sentence as he and Seabs turn to stare at Jon wearing identical startled expressions.

“What… was that?” Seabs asks eventually.

“Uh – something in my throat, sorry,” Jonny says, clearing his throat in a painfully obvious plea for both of his alternates to drop it.

After giving him a dubious look, Duncs starts up his commentary again and Jonny’s able to stew over his own thoughts. What _was_ that? It’s not like he’s never played with omegas before. Hell, there were already two of them on the team before Artemi arrived, and Jonny practically forgets that Turbo and Travis are omegas on a daily basis, because he _doesn’t fucking react to them like this._

Jonny keeps stewing even as he runs through some drills with the rest of the team. Seriously, he gets pissed off like everyone else if someone lays a dirty hit on the Hawks’ omega players, but he feels that way about the _entire_ roster – their secondary sex has nothing to do with it. Hammer barely even _did_ anything and that got Jonny all alpha-stupid, and Artemi isn’t even _his_ to defend. What’s he supposed to do during a fucking _game,_ if people see him react like that? What would everyone think? What would _Pat_ think?

Now he finally understands why people say alpha-omega pairs on a team are a liability. Most teams won’t draft an alpha or an omega if it’s understood that they’re part of a package deal like that, and some teams even write up clauses that void a contract if an alpha or omega mates someone else on the roster. Sid and Malkin… well, their bond is definitely a liability, if the number of penalties Malkin takes is any indication – but clearly their hockey is worth it, which makes them the exception.

Not that any of this _matters,_ because Jonny’s not _part_ of an alpha-omega pair nor does he _want_ to be – because as lame as Pat is, Jonny wants to spend the rest of his life with _him._ It doesn’t matter that his body’s reacting like this, because he’s not a fucking _animal._

Jonny can barely even look at Artemi throughout the rest of practice, too embarrassed that he’s having these thoughts. He’s mostly just confused and mad at himself, with a good amount of guilt thrown in there. If the Hawks are going to work well as a team – and if he and _Kaner_ are going to work well as life partners – he has to tell Pat about what happened when Artemi got checked. Even though it’s a conversation he desperately doesn’t want to have.

xxx

Kaner makes it easy for Jonny to put it off, though, because he practically jumps Jonny as soon as they get home.

“Want you so fucking bad,” he groans against Jonny’s lips, pressing him right up against the inside of their front door.

Jonny runs his hands through Pat’s hair, still wet from the locker room showers, and tilts his head up to get a better angle for the kiss. He feels like he’s drowning in Pat’s scent, desperation suddenly thick in the air, and he growls a little when Pat grabs his wrists and pins his arms against the door.

Pat growls back, a happy noise low in his throat, and rolls his hips. It feels good, it always does, Jonny’s love for Pat warring with his biology screaming at him not to submit – it makes Jonny’s whole body tingle and fills him with restless energy. He shoves a thigh in between Pat’s legs and they rut against each other like that, Pat’s hands still around his wrists as the kiss turns rougher.

“Fuck, I need it,” Pat groans as Jonny bites down the line of his jaw. “Can I – Jonny, your thighs–”

“Yeah,” Jonny nods, whole body heating up in anticipation when he feels Pat’s dick press hard against his leg. “Let’s – c’mon–”

They stumble into their bedroom, shedding clothes as they go and leaving a trail of name-branded athletic gear in the hallway. Pat tries to muscle Jonny toward the bed and Jonny makes an offended noise and wrestles with him, pushing back with his body and daring Pat to try and shove him around.

This is what he _likes,_ Jonny reminds himself as they fall onto the bed, both of them trying to gain control of the kiss. He likes the give-and-take, he likes being able to cede control every once in a while, and he likes getting off with someone who understands exactly what he wants, how he wants it. And of course he loves Pat, but that’s a given.

Eventually Jonny gives up on teasing either of them any longer and settles on his back underneath Pat, slowing down their biting kiss until they’re nipping gently at each other’s lips, breathing heavily.

“C’mon, Peeks, want you in me,” he murmurs into Pat’s mouth.

Pat swears and pulls away, reaching for the lube on the bedside table.

It’s too risky for him and Pat to actually try and fuck each other when there’s hockey to be played – they don’t have enough consecutive off days built into their schedule to guarantee that either of them can recover from taking an alpha-sized cock in time for the next skate – so they like to do this instead. Jonny smirks at Pat and rolls over onto his stomach, propping his hips up and relishing in the panicked twinge his body gives at the submissive position.

“Yeah, gonna get in there,” Pat mutters. Jonny grins when he hears the cap of the lube click open. “Best ass in the league, I swear to god.”

Jonny hisses a little when Pat starts to spread cool lube over his inner thighs, getting him sloppy with it. He wonders if Pat will let Jonny do this to him later today, because Jonny _also_ really needs to fuck into something _hotwetsnug_ and refuses to think about why.

Pat rubs lube between his legs until Jonny’s balls feel sticky and he’s dripping with it, his face bright red against the sheets. “C’mon,” he urges Pat.

“Good?” Pat asks.

Jonny nods, and the bottle of lube lands next to him in the sheets a moment later. He shivers and gets down on his stomach, pressing his legs together tightly and squirming at the friction his dick gets when it’s trapped between his abs and the bed.

“Jesus fuck,” Pat groans, plastering himself to Jonny’s back and nosing against his neck. He shifts to one side, getting a hand in between them so he can guide his dick in between Jonny’s thighs, and moans at the first slide in. “You’re so wet.”

Jonny shivers again and tries to stay still, insides twisting at the inexplicably hot slide of Pat’s cock between his thighs. He moans on the next thrust when Pat’s cockhead nudges up firmly behind his balls and leaves what feels like pure electricity in its wake.

“Yeah, fuck me,” he groans.

A moan rumbles in Pat’s chest and he bites gently at the back of Jonny’s neck in a move that gives Jonny goosebumps all over. The next few thrusts put even more pressure on that spot right behind Jonny’s balls, and he scrambles to tilt his hips back, trying to make it easier for Pat to get him there.

“Like that?” Pat murmurs. Jonny nods. “Yeah, baby, I can tell. You’re dripping.”

Jonny’s face flames and his dick blurts precome onto the sheets. He lets Pat drop kisses over his shoulders then pushes back on his dick, moving together like they would if Pat was actually inside him.

Pat groans and his rhythm stutters. Jonny smirks, but then makes a soft sound of loss when Pat pulls his mouth away and leans up.

“Again,” Pat urges him, a pleading note to his voice.

Jonny rocks back and bites down on a whine when Pat grabs his ass with both hands, guiding his movements and turning the wet sounds between his legs more rhythmic. He turns his face to the side to gasp in air and loses himself in it for a while, warm syrupy pleasure curling in his stomach every time Pat kneads at his ass and rolls his hips forward.

Jonny’s senses always feel like they’re dialed up to eleven when Pat does him like this – he’s hyperaware of their combined scents that make the room smell _matesafehome,_ especially the bed, and the soft touch of the blanket against his cheek almost tickles with how sensitive his skin feels. Speaking of that, Jonny really likes this blanket.

“Kaner,” he slurs. “Stop for a sec.”

Pat’s hips stutter and then still as he makes a quiet, pained noise. “What’s wrong?”

“Just – blanket.” Jonny pulls it out from underneath them and pushes it onto the floor, satisfied that it won’t get stained with come. “Keep going.”

“Yes _sir,”_ says Pat, letting go of his ass to lean down and fit himself against Jonny’s back. He can really put his hips into it like this, grind down in this filthy rhythm that pushes Jonny’s cock against the bed again and again.

Jonny moans and tries to prop up onto his arms just to see what Pat will do, then snarls happily when Pat shoves him down, grabbing his shoulders and pinning them to the mattress. His stomach flips in circles when Pat bites at the back of his neck, not hard enough to break the skin but hard enough for it to hurt, and Jonny claws at the sheets in satisfaction, muscles straining as he tries to break Kaner’s hold.

He keens the next time the head of Pat’s cock slips to press behind his balls – he can’t believe he’s getting close already, but they were both really fucking worked up when they got home, and Jonny _really_ doesn’t want to think about why.

“So fucking wet for me,” Kaner purrs, licking at Jonny’s neck and shoving his cock forward again. “Gonna make me come-”

“Do it, I want it,” Jonny groans. His cock is sticky with precome, sliding between his abs and the sheets, and he’s not going to last much longer. “Want it on my ass, c’mon–”

 _“Fuck.”_ Pat bites down harder this time, vicious and satisfying, and Jonny snarls a little, his cock twitching.

Then Pat’s weight disappears and he takes his hands off of Jonny’s shoulders, and a second later Jonny hears the slick sounds of Pat’s hand jerking his dick, so close to the edge. He turns around so he can see, careful to keep his ass in the same position so Pat has a good visual, and watches greedily as Pat jerks himself off, already wet and messy with lube.

Jonny shifts his eyes up to look at Pat’s face, the way his eyelids flutter as he gets closer to coming, eyes still fixed on Jonny’s ass. His stomach clenches when Pat gives a low groan and starts to tip over, hand working the head of his dick as he stripes come all over Jonny’s ass and the backs of his thighs. Jonny feels _filthy,_ hot come on his skin, the wet, sticky mess between his legs, and his dick leaking precome into the sheets.

“Jesus Christ,” Pat breathes when he finishes.

Jonny squirms, rocking his hips down to get friction. He’s still so close, could probably get there if he works his dick _just like that_ a couple more times-

“Turn over, babe,” Kaner urges him gently. “C’mon.”

“Close,” Jonny grunts, abandoning the friction of the bed only because he knows he’ll get something better, like Pat’s gorgeous fucking mouth or clever hands.

Once he’s on his back, Jonny realizes that what he really wants is to hold Pat down and bite him while he comes, so he reaches up and flips both of them over while Pat’s still too fucked-stupid to resist.

Pat makes a happy noise and lazily reaches for Jonny’s dick, his movements slow like they always are after he’s come. Jonny guides him and wraps both of their hands around his cock, keeping them steady so he can fuck forward. He tries one slow thrust and moans, dropping forward to nose at Pat’s throat.

“Yeah, baby, that’s it,” Pat murmurs, gripping at his hair.

It feels so good. Jonny growls low in his throat and sets his teeth to Pat’s neck, not biting down but feeding that deep need he has to _claimclaimclaim._ His cock drips precome over their fingers and he shoves his hips forward again, pleasure rolling up his spine.

Jonny nuzzles closer, stuffing his face against Pat’s shoulder and breathing in his scent as his hips start to get more frantic. He grips himself a little tighter and moans when Pat follows suit, reading the play perfectly like he always does.

“Gonna,” he mumbles into Pat’s shoulder.

Pat makes an appreciative noise and Jonny shoves forward again, shuddering at the filthy noise it draws from their slick hands. He wishes he had more hands – maybe he could pin Kaner to the bed or wrap a hand around his throat – and growls loudly at the thought, orgasm starting to crest.

Jonny bites down on the corded muscle of Pat’s shoulder when he comes, pleasure pulsing through him as he spills over Pat’s stomach, thick cock twitching as his hips jerk forward uncontrollably. He clings to Pat and growls triumphantly when Pat shifts and bares his neck even more, his alpha mate submitting to him. More come spills out of Jonny’s cock at the thought and he shudders through the rest of his orgasm, happiness washing over him.

He collapses on top of Kaner when it’s over, and the two of them lay there for a minute, just breathing in each other’s scents. Jonny feels relaxed and happy.

Sighing against Pat’s sweat-damp skin, Jonny decides that he doesn’t actually have to bring up what happened at practice today, because it’s clearly not going to cause any problems.

xxx

Meanwhile, on the bed in his small west side apartment, Artemi gasps in air as he comes down from his second orgasm, lying on his back with three fingers still inside himself. He’s blushing all the way down to his toes but too satisfied to really feel guilty about his fantasies of being double-teamed by his two new alpha teammates. He blows out a breath and stares up at the ceiling, shaking a little, and decides that he likes America very much.

 

_September 22_

Patrick feels like he’s losing his goddamn mind.

What started as a peripheral awareness of Artemi on the ice and translated into some pretty awesome hockey is starting to morph into a constant awareness of Artemi at all times. Which isn’t translating into anything but guilt and frustration. _Fuck._

The team is out at a bar in Lakeview celebrating their first preseason game, a win at home over Detroit. Jonny’s making the rounds and saying nice, captainly things, mostly to the new guys, probably because the rest of them are fresh off of winning the Cup and don’t need irrelevant preseason games to boost their confidence. Patrick’s chatting with Seabs, asking about his kids, but his eyes keep straying to where Artemi is talking with Tikhonov, face bright and animated as he chatters away in Russian.

“You and Panarin were lethal out there,” Seabs says eventually, once he realizes who Patrick keeps looking at.

Pat lets his chest puff out a little bit. “Yeah, and neither of us were even giving a hundred percent, either. Don’t tell Jonny.”

Seabs laughs. “I don’t wanna be responsible for you sleeping on the couch, man.”

Seabs heads to the bathroom a couple minutes later and Patrick grabs another glass of soda water from the bar before sidling over to Artemi and Tikhonov, unable to help himself.

“Something tells me the rest of us are gonna have to start learning Russian,” he tells them once they’ve clinked their glasses together in a makeshift toast.

Tikhonov laughs. “Is Artemi’s English that bad?”

“No, your English is fine,” Pat reassures them. “But how can I be sure you guys aren’t shit-talking me right in front of me?”

“Is what we do,” Artemi says, his mouth quirked up. “I tell Vitya you slow on ice, I want play on different line.”

“Ouch,” Pat laughs, putting a hand over his heart.

Tikhonov grins and opens his mouth to add something when his phone starts ringing. He fishes it out of his pocket and smiles widely when he looks at the screen. “It’s my girlfriend. I’ll be back later.”

He answers the phone and wanders off, probably to search in vain for a quiet place to talk.

Patrick turns back to Artemi and notices for the first time that he’s drinking from a plastic water cup. “Not drinking tonight?”

“Never during season,” Artemi says. “Like to have head on straight.”

Patrick’s heart… kind of flips over in his chest. Which is stupid. This is a stupid thing to be getting excited about, but he has to actively stop himself from crowding closer to Artemi all the same.

“What about you?” Artemi asks, probably noticing the undoubtedly weird fucking look on Patrick’s face.

“I, uh… I’m trying to do the same thing this season,” Patrick says, swirling the little straw around in his soda water so he has something to do with his hands. “But, like, hopefully permanently. Alcohol and I... don’t go so well together.”

He’s trying to get used to admitting it out loud and being more open about it, and the nod he gets from Artemi only encourages him.

“Have couple friends back in Russia, same way. We joke they have vodka allergy.”

Patrick laughs, and to his horror it comes out a little watery. He clears his throat and says, “That’s a good way to put it. That must suck for them, though, isn’t vodka like water to you guys?”

Artemi shrugs. “To lot of Russians, maybe. But it make people stupid. Don’t need.”

Their eyes meet, both of them smiling a little stupidly, and Pat leans a little closer. He glances down at Artemi’s lips for just a second then takes a big, guilty sip of his soda water.

“We gotta stick together when we go out, then,” he finds himself saying. “’Cause I still wanna, like, go out with the team and stuff, but something tells me ordering water is gonna get really old really fast.”

“Yes, this good plan,” Artemi nods, still smiling. He nudges Patrick gently with his elbow, which is when Patrick realizes how fucking close they’ve gotten. “We go out, save money, spend it on nice breakfast next morning.”

Pat almost chokes on his soda water, which he’s started sucking down fast in some sort of fucked-up anxiety reflex. He knows Artemi just means going out to brunch, you know, like _friends_ do, but his brain helpfully supplies a fantasy of taking a sleepy, satisfied Artemi out to breakfast after he’s spent the night at-

At the _condo that Pat shares with Jonny,_ Patrick, you piece of shit.

“Yeah, there are some really good brunch places in the West Loop,” he says, hopefully smoothly.

Artemi tilts his head, confused. “Brunch?”

“Oh, it’s just – it’s like a combination of the words ‘breakfast’ and ‘lunch,’” Patrick tells him. “Mostly it’s just like a late breakfast.”

“Even better,” Artemi grins. “Not morning person.”

This is information that Patrick _did not need_. He goes to take another anxious sip of soda water and finds that he’s run dry.

“Am done too,” says Artemi, shaking his plastic water cup. “I buy us next round with new NHL salary.”

Patrick cracks up. “Right, what a hardship for you. Thanks, man.”

Artemi makes his way over to the bar and Patrick rubs his sweaty hands on his jeans, feeling off-balance and slightly hollow. He looks around for Jonny, hoping to bring him into the conversation so he won’t feel quite so guilty. Maybe Jonny will even come to brunch with them so Patrick can stop beating himself up.

 

_October 3_

“Yes, it’s going well,” Artemi says, relaxing into his couch and keeping the phone pressed to his ear. “I’m not as tired as I thought I would be.”

“Just wait ‘til the regular season starts,” Vova says. “That’s good, though, that Toews isn’t working you too hard. Everyone’s being nice?”

Artemi rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes, everyone’s being nice to me. You act like you expect them not to be.”

Vova doesn’t say anything for a beat. Then, “I just worry sometimes, Tyusha. After Shipachyov.”

Artemi rolls his eyes. “He was just upset that I didn’t want to be his mate.”

Vadim is over him by now. Probably. That's not Artemi’s problem; it'll only become his problem if it's not cleared up by the time they both get called up to the national team.

“Exactly!” Vova exclaims. “And SKA only had _one_ alpha. So you see why I worry, right?”

“You don’t have to,” says Artemi. “Kaner and Tazer are… very kind.”

He must not sound very convincing, because Vova makes a concerned noise. “Are they now?”

Artemi huffs. “They’re… they’re _too_ nice.” _Maybe nicer than I want them to be,_ he doesn’t say. “You told me American alphas were brash and sometimes overstepped boundaries, but – they’re – I don’t know, they’re just so respectful.”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad thing,” Vova says carefully. “You and Kane play well off of each other, from what I’ve seen.”

“Yes, on the ice,” Artemi says. He’s not sure why he’s so frustrated. “I’m going out to a late breakfast with them after the game tomorrow.”

Vova makes a noise Artemi can’t decipher. “Both of them?”

“Yes.”

“That’s… nice,” says Vova. “Brunch is very trendy in big American cities.”

“Yeah, they’ve taken me to a couple different places so far.”

“So I’ve seen.”

Artemi huffs. “I don’t know why it has to be a story.”

“They’re high-profile in Chicago and neither of them is mated,” Vova says. “American media is… well, they’re very invasive when it comes to these things.”

“That’s stupid, it’s just breakfast. Like I said, they’re extremely, _extremely_ respectful - it clearly doesn’t mean anything. ”

“Really? Do they take the other omegas on the team out to brunch too, Tyusha?”

Artemi can’t explain it, but he gets this weird sort of tightening in his chest when imagining Kaner and Tazer treating Trevor and Teuvo the same way they treat him. “I don’t know. I don’t think so, but it - it doesn’t matter, anyway. Just - whatever.”

There’s a very long pause on Vova’s end. “Well, it doesn’t sound like a bad thing, in any case,” Vova says eventually. “Better that they’re too nice to you than the opposite.”

Maybe. “We’ll see,” Artemi says. “But since preseason games don’t seem to really matter much, I have yet to find out if this club celebrates certain wins the same way SKA does.”

“That wasn’t just SKA, that was _you_ , you slut,” Vova says fondly. “Give yourself some credit.”

“Shut up,” Artemi laughs. “Artya and Vitya don’t seem to think so, but I don’t think they would know.”

“Very little Blackhawks gossip makes its way to the Blues locker room, so I definitely can’t help you either,” says Vova. “Wait and see if there’s anything to celebrate in the regular season, though. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Artemi laughs again. “Don’t act like there won’t be. Did you _see_ their numbers from last season?”

Vova sighs, but he sounds like he’s smiling. “You know I did.”

They sit in companionable silence for a few moments before Vova says, “How are you doing with the English?”

Artemi figures that means they’re done talking about Patrick and Jonathan. He… sort of wants to talk about them _more_ , but he’s not sure why. The conversation evolving like this is probably natural, and he’s going to stick with it. “I’m getting much better at comprehension, but I don’t think my grammar has improved much since I’ve got here.”

“Yeah, that takes a little while,” Vova says. “It’s best to learn all the nouns you can first, then let the people you’re talking to fill in the blanks on what you’re trying to say until you can say it yourself.”

“I’m not saying I’m _bad,”_ Artemi huffs. “Definitely better than some of our friends when they got here.”

“True,” says Vova. “Now, have you picked up any romance novels or tabloid magazines like I told you to? Those things are full of common vocabulary words.”

 

_October 10_

“Now that’s what I’m fuckin’ talking about!” Jonny yells, high-fiving a couple of the guys as he walks into the locker room last. “Good show out there, guys. You were a fuckin’ brick wall, Crow.”

They’d lost their very first regular season home game to the Rangers but just finished completing a two-game sweep of the Islanders to round out their first three games of the season. All in all, not bad, and Jonny got a pretty pair of goals tonight that had made the enthusiastic crowd at the UC very happy.

“Who’s going out tonight?” Shawzy asks the room at large, shouting to be heard over all of the voices.

A lot of the guys cheer, still somehow full of energy that needs to be worked out with alcohol and dancing, but Jonny is looking forward to working out his energy with Kaner in their California king bed instead. He sighs, rolling his shoulders, and wanders over to his stall where the media is already waiting for him to give a couple of sound-bites.

By the time Jonny’s said a couple minutes’ worth of optimistic shit about the season, cooled down his legs on the stationary bike, and hit the showers, he’s one of the last guys left in the locker room. Kaner’s sitting on the bench next to Jonny’s locker, dicking around on his phone, and the three Russians are having a fairly animated conversation over in their little corner.

Jonny steps into a pair of boxers and waves goodbye to Turbo, who asks, “Are you coming out with us tonight?”

Jonny shakes his head. “Nah, staying in. Duncs is gonna supervise the group tonight, so don’t make things too hard on him, eh?”

“Tell that to Shawzy,” Turbo says, waving goodbye to Pat before making his exit.

“You didn’t ask if _I_ wanted to go out, you know,” Pat says.

Jonny snorts. “Do you wanna go out?”

“No.” Kaner pokes his tongue out between his teeth after he says it, giving Jonny a sleazy once-over that’s super lame but makes Jonny hot anyway. “So hurry up.”

Jonny swallows loudly. He quickly reaches for his undershirt and focuses all his attention on reconstructing his game-day suit, up until the Russian conversation starts to sound like it’s legitimately escalating. He turns to look at their corner, still in the process of doing up the buttons on his shirt, in time to see Anisimov throw his hands up and mutter something at the ceiling before stalking from the room, shaking his head.

“Everything alright?” Jonny asks sharply.

The remaining two don’t answer him; Tikhonov glares at Artemi and Artemi glares right back, arms crossed over his chest as he murmurs something in Russian.

“Look,” says Jonny, “I know it’s none of my business, but as your captain it’s gonna become my business if you guys seriously aren’t getting along, because-”

“That not problem,” Artemi says, eyes softening as he looks over at Jonny.

Jonny glances over at Kaner, who shrugs.

“I just need to say - Artemi wants to make sure everything is, like, explicitly clear, so he asked me to translate for him even though I _really_ don’t want to be a part of this conversation,” Tikhonov says. “And now we have no ride home, because Artem wanted to be here even less than I do.”

“We’ll drive you guys home, no worries,” Pat says immediately. Jonny nods. “What’s wrong?”

Artemi says something else to Tikhonov, then they both sit down near Jonny’s locker. Jonny, who’s now the only one standing, is quick to do the same.

Artemi’s still talking to Tikhonov in Russian, his eyes wide and pleading. Finally Tikhonov nods and turns to Jonny.

“Artemi has played at several clubs where…” Tikhonov pauses and glances at Artemi, who says a few words and looks at him meaningfully. “The alphas at those clubs had a specific way of celebrating after a good match.”

Jonny’s blood runs cold.

Tikhonov looks like he’d rather be literally anywhere else. He takes a deep breath and continues, “And he wants to know if that’s the way it is here. Because you just got two goals, and - _nyet_ , I’m not saying the rest.”

Next to Jonny, Kaner’s gone completely still, his scent tinged with panic and guilt.

“No, oh my god, you don’t have to - _no,”_ Jonny says firmly, almost a little dizzy with how worried he is. “I’m so sorry if I ever - for what I did to make you think that I - _expected_ that, or something, I-”

“Not _have_ to,” Artemi cuts him off, eyes wide. “Want to.”

Tikhonov says something else to Artemi in Russian, but Jonny’s barely paying attention to him anymore. He only has eyes for Artemi, for the flush high on his cheeks and the way he’s worrying at his full lower lip. Jonny catches a subtle change in Pat’s scent and realizes that Pat’s getting just as guiltily turned on by this as Jonny is.

Jonny swallows, his throat suddenly dry, and realizes that Artemi’s staring at him expectantly. He feels like he has whiplash. “Wait, I just have to… just to clarify, you weren’t, like, _forced_ into doing anything at your old clubs, were you?”

Tikhonov translates that into Russian, but Artemi seems to already get the gist of the English. He shakes his head and repeats, _“Want_ to.”

Jesus _Christ._ Jonny can imagine it, is the worst part - Artemi on his knees right here in the locker room, unable to wait after Jonny or Pat has an awesome game, eyes glassy as he dreamily sucks on-

Kaner coughs loudly and Jonny physically startles, digging his hands guiltily into his thighs. He panics, realizing the question’s still out in the air, realizing that all he has to do is say the word and the omega who’s been starring in his dreams for the past month would be ready and willing to - well, ready and willing.

Jonny grits his teeth, thinks the unsexiest thoughts he possibly can even though it’s kind of useless when Artemi’s face is so beautiful, and says, “Teeks, uh. Tell him Kaner’s got that covered.”

Tikhonov cocks his head, then visibly understands a second later. He looks surprised, but not judgmental, when he relays the message to Artemi.

Artemi sucks in a surprised breath when Tikhonov tells him, and his eyes go half-lidded. He looks between Jonny and Pat, back and forth a couple of times, and bites his lip.

“Does the rest of the team know?” Tikhonov asks.

Jonny still can’t take his eyes off Artemi. He looks like he might be… is he _turned on_ by the idea of Jonny and Pat together?

“Yeah, most of them know.” Kaner’s the one who ends up responding, because apparently Jonny’s fucking useless right now. “We don’t, like, make a yearly announcement or anything, but we’re not trying to keep it a secret from you guys either. Just from the public, you know?”

Artemi looks down at his lap, his cheeks stained pink, just as a very faint but incredibly delicious scent hits Jonny’s nose and he has to fight every instinct he has not to sniff the air like an animal.

Kaner doesn't say anything else; Jonny glances over and finds him staring back, blue eyes wide. Tikhonov’s the only one who doesn't react at all - how could he, he's a beta - as he leans over to dutifully translate Pat’s words for Artemi, who's still looking at his lap.

He smells so good, so _sweet,_ that Jonny’s dick is thickening up right in his dress pants, unsexy thoughts be damned. Fuck, Jonny wants to bury his nose in Artemi’s hair and take deep breaths, wants to scent his throat, between his _legs -_

“Did you guys say you needed a ride home?” Pat asks, voice cracking just a little.

“Yeah, but we can call a cab if it’s too much trouble,” Tikhonov says.

Jonny actually almost _growls_ at the thought of Artemi getting in a car with a stranger smelling like _that._ “We’ll drive you. It's no problem.”

Kaner’s face is bright red as they all pick up their things and walk to Jonny’s car, Artemi and Tikhonov chattering away in Russian all the while. It’s not awkward, though Jonny thinks it maybe should be; he feels like he has goosebumps all over his body and he’s walking with his jacket in front of his half-hard dick, but it’s not awkward. It’s just a little… charged.

They drop Teeks off first, because he lives really close to the UC. He doesn’t seem that ruffled by their earlier conversation, but that’s probably because Jonny didn’t say ‘yes’ and bend his best friend over right there in the locker room.

“You going out with the group tonight?” Jonny asks him as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

“Yeah, probably,” Tikhonov says. “My girlfriend wants me to call her first, but TVR told me they’re going to some kind of vodka emporium, and I don't want to miss that.”

“Oh, yeah, that place is awesome,” Jonny says. “Have fun, man. Take care.”

“See ya, Teeks,” says Kaner, picking at a loose stitch on the leather of the steering wheel.

Once he shuts the door, Kaner pulls away from the curb and continues toward Artemi’s apartment. “What about you, Temi, any plans tonight?”

Jonny blushes furiously when he thinks about what Artemi’s plans _would_ have been.

“Not sure,” Artemi says from the backseat. “Maybe go out, maybe call Vova.”

By now Jonny’s figured out that ‘Vova’ refers to Tarasenko and has given up all hope of understanding how Russian nicknames work. “If you don’t stay up too late, I got a reservation for the three of us at Bar Siena for 9:30 tomorrow morning,” Jonny tells him.

Artemi makes a small noise. “Is… still okay?”

“What do you mean?” Kaner asks.

“We go to breakfast many times, but I not know you… boyfriends? Boyfriends,” Artemi says. “I not want be there if _you_ want be alone-”

“No,” Jonny and Pat say at the same time.

Jonny glances over at Pat, whose hands have gone tight on the steering wheel. Jonny clears his throat and continues, “We, uh. We like having you there. If you’re cool with it.”

“Yes, I like,” Artemi says softly.

Jonny bites his lip and shifts his jacket on his lap.

“You didn’t get a weird vibe or anything from us before, right? That’s not gonna change,” Kaner says.

“Good,” says Artemi. “I like places we go. You have good taste.”

Kaner huffs out a little laugh and something flips over in Jonny’s stomach.

“You want us to pick you up tomorrow?” Jonny asks as they pull up to Artemi’s apartment.

“What time? Not long to get there,” Artemi says.

“Yeah, let’s do 9:20,” says Pat.

Kaner’s stopped the car at that point, leaving the three of them to smile stupidly at each other for a few seconds. Artemi’s scent is faint but it might as well be coating Jonny’s lungs, the way it’s affecting him; Jonny’s embarrassed by how much he wants to climb into the back seat and-

“Have good night,” Artemi says softly, touching both of them lightly on the shoulder before slipping out of the car.

“Night, Temi,” says Kaner.

“See you tomorrow,” Jonny calls after him.

They idle at the curb until Artemi’s safely inside his building. Then Kaner blows out a breath through his nose and shifts the car into drive again so he can guide them home.

Jonny has to tell him. Jonny _has_ to tell him. He feels like words are trying to bubble out of him, like it’s all he can do to wait until they’re back home before spitting them out, so he doesn’t open his mouth at all on the drive back home. Pat doesn’t either - he just hums along to whatever’s on the radio, face carefully blank.

Finally, when they pull into the parking garage underneath their building and Kaner stops the car, Jonny turns to face him.

They both start talking at the same time.

“Pat, I gotta tell you something-”

“I have something to tell you-”

Jonny’s eyes widen and they both cut off, staring at each other.

“About Temi?” Jonny asks him, confused but daring to feel hopeful.

“Oh, thank god,” Kaner breathes, then leans over and kisses Jonny hard on the mouth.

Jonny makes a surprised noise but kisses back, heart slamming against his ribs. Artemi’s scent is still lingering in the car, throwing him off-balance, but Kaner’s lips are grounding him.

“I want him so much,” Kaner breathes against Jonny’s mouth. “I want both of you so fucking much.”

“Greedy,” Jonny murmurs.

“Hell yeah I am.”

“I felt like I was going crazy,” Jonny admits, starting to kiss down Pat’s jaw. “I wanted - when he asked me, tonight, I wanted to say yes.”

Pat moans. _“I_ wanted you to say yes too.”

“Fuck.” Jonny kisses him again, sloppier this time, licking into his mouth like he's got something to prove. “And he - he smells so _good-”_

Pat nods frantically and bites Jonny’s lower lip. “We’re never getting this car cleaned again.”

Jonny almost wants to laugh, except for the part where he totally fucking agrees. He makes a low noise that Kaner swallows up, then trails a hand up Kaner’s neck to bury his fingers in his curls.

Several breathless minutes later, Jonny’s aching in his slacks and he feels like he's suffocating in the sweetest way.

“Get in the back,” Pat tells him, pulling back after working a bruise into his collarbone.

“What?” Jonny asks stupidly.

“I mean, _someone’s_ gotta blow you,” Pat says. “And since you were dumb enough to say _no_ when Temi was offering-”

Jonny moans and thunks his head against Pat’s shoulder. “Don't remind me.”

“C’mon, babe, get in the back,” Pat urges him. Like they're fucking _teenagers_ or something. It's stupid.

It's also the best idea Jonny’s ever heard.

Artemi’s scent is stronger in the backseat and Jonny feels drunk off of it; Kaner climbs on top of him and sets to unbuttoning his shirt.

“Bet he looks so pretty sucking dick,” Kaner murmurs, licking his lips then going for Jonny’s belt. “His _lips-”_

“Stop it, Kaner, I swear to god I’ll come if you don't stop talking,” Jonny moans. He tries to hide his face against his shoulder but that just means he breathes in more of Artemi’s scent. He's a _mess._

Kaner just grins at him, like he knows why Jonny’s losing his mind - because he _does,_ they're both gone, gone for Artemi and gone for each other - and pulls his zipper down.

Jonny’s mind completely deserts him, after that.

 

_October 13_

“I still don’t get why you want to call him,” Patrick says. “Neither of us is friends with him.”

“Yeah, but we get along fine with him, and you can’t say that for any of the other alphas in the league,” says Jonny. Pat supposes he has a point. “Besides, who else are we supposed to call with a question like this? Your _dad?”_

“Fuck no,” Pat says immediately. “What about your cousin?”

“My cousin isn’t mated, dumbass.”

“Jesus, are we really choosing between Malkin and my dad for mating advice?”

“It’s not – it’s not _mating_ advice,” Jonny says, like he’s trying to convince himself. “We just have some questions, yeah?”

Questions about _mating._ Pat rolls his eyes and indulges Jonny’s tiny freakout, the hundredth one he’s had in the past couple of days. “Sure, babe. You know what, if you want to call him, call him.”

“Let me text Sid first,” Jonny says, and pulls out his phone.

Pat doesn’t quite understand how Jonny maintains a friendship with Sidney Crosby, but the two of them are probably more similar than Patrick would like to admit, considering he’s emotionally committed to one of them. Pat watches Jonny’s thumbs move across the screen, a look of deep concentration on his face.

Twenty seconds later, Jonny’s phone rings.

Jonny frowns at, then swipes right and puts it on speaker. “Sid? I just texted you–”

“Jonathan Toews!” Evgeni Malkin’s cheerful voice booms through the phone’s tinny speakers. “Sid say you want my number, I say – why we not call right now?”

“Do you want a list of reasons, or–” Pat starts.

“And Patrick Kane, should have realize,” says Malkin. “How you doing?”

“Um, fine,” says Pat.

Jonny sits down on the couch next to Pat and presses their thighs together, probably for mutual moral support to get through this call. “How about you guys? You’re with Sid, right?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” Sidney Crosby’s voice says through the speakerphone. “We’ve been good. What’s up, Jon?”

Pat rolls his eyes. Jonny shifts slightly next to him and says, “Nothing much, everything’s okay, we just, uh. Maybe wanted some advice.”

“From Geno?” asks Crosby.

“From an alpha,” Pat clarifies.

“This good, I give best advice,” Malkin says. “What you need?”

Jonny scratches at the back of his neck. “Well, geez, we didn’t, like, have a proposal ready to go or anything. We weren’t even gonna call you right away.”

“See, I told you we shouldn’t have called,” Crosby says to Malkin.

“I’m think alphas like straight to point,” says Malkin.

“This is why we don’t talk to other alphas,” Pat whispers to Jonny.

“Look, let’s all just – it’s just us, Jon, it’s okay,” Crosby says. “What’s wrong? We won’t judge.”

Jonny looks at Pat pleadingly, but Pat raises his eyebrows and shrugs to remind Jonny exactly _who_ had thought this call was a good idea. Jonny sighs in defeat. “Look, so – you know how we’re… together, right?”

“Not live under rock,” Malkin says.

“Okay, great, so,” Jonny says loudly, looking over at Pat and proactively fending off what was going to be a pretty sick burn about Malkin’s ugly fucking house, “we’re together, and we’re both alphas, and we’re not used to… uh, reading omega signals. Because of that.”

“Oh my god,” Crosby says quietly.

“You need my help read omega signals?” Malkin asks. “Why you want?”

“So let’s say… um… hypothetically, that we met an omega, that both of us liked,” Jonny says slowly. “Not, like, _instead_ of each other, but… um, in _addition_ to each other. You know how sometimes people have two mates instead of one?”

“Yes, I know this,” Malkin says slowly.

“So… I guess we were just wondering… how we’re supposed to _know,_ like, if we meet someone who’s supposed to fit in with us, how that feels.”

There’s a little bit of a pause. Then Malkin says, “You want be mates with this omega?”

“Yes,” Pat and Jonny say at the same time.

Crosby stifles a laugh, poorly.

“What I hear, omega fit with you, if you both like,” Malkin says. “They interested?”

Jonny blushes a little bit. “Yeah.”

“Then you need to court omega,” says Malkin. “Simple, learn in school. Why you need me to tell you this?”

“Look, man,” Pat butts in, “I really don’t think it’s as easy as you’re making it out to be. How can we be sure it’s the right choice? We really like him-” Jonny glares at him sharply, but if they’re already on the phone baring their fucking souls to Malkin and Crosby, the primary gender of their omega doesn’t make any difference- “but we didn’t, like, _feel_ any different when we met him or anything.”

“You feel different when you meet each other?”

Jonny smiles. “I just knew I really liked his hockey.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t, like, earth-shattering or anything,” says Pat, bumping his thigh against Jonny’s. “But neither of us is an omega.”

Malkin laughs. “Omegas not different, not magic, anything like that. You think first time I see Sid, I say, ‘Oh, Sidnyushka, life have no meaning before I’m see your face?’”

Pat has to actually, consciously restrain himself from saying _maybe not his face._ Besides, Jonny has the nicer ass anyway. “So you didn’t… like, nothing _happened_ when you guys met?” he asks.

“I thought he was handsome and I liked how he played,” Crosby volunteers.

“Me too,” says Geno. “I love him very much – I love you, Sidnyushka – but I’m not feel like life bad or… or _less_ before I meet.”

Jonny and Pat look at each other slowly.

“Oh,” Jonny finally says.

“Look, it’s not like that ‘two halves of a heart’ stuff, or whatever fractions of a heart makes sense for you guys, eh?” says Crosby. “It’s like, whoever makes you even better, whoever makes you happy. It’s… I would guess it’s probably not as complicated as you’re making it out to be. If you guys click with each other and want to be with each other, I say go for it.”

Patrick snorts derisively and glances over at Jonny. “Really valuable stuff.”

“Shut up,” says Jonny. “Guys, we can’t really just go for it. If things don’t work out it would fuck with the team dynamic.”

“Oh, he’s on your team?” Crosby asks, sounding interested.

Jonny slaps a hand over his face and Pat glares at him.

Then things get even worse when they hear Malkin take in an excited breath. _“Oh!_ Is Tyusha?”

“Who,” Patrick says flatly.

“Artemi,” Malkin clarifies.

Patrick thinks their silence is probably answer enough.

“This good, Tyusha best,” says Malkin. “He nervous, move to new country and not have mate. I tell him is no problem. I right, see?”

“So you think he’d go for it?” Jonny asks.

Malkin laughs. “Not read his mind just because we both Russian. But I can say – you two of best players in NHL, and Tyusha have… kink? Is right word? Kink for good hockey.”

Pat feels something ugly clench in his chest and raises an eyebrow at Jonny, who’s looking at the phone like he might destroy it from the force of his gaze alone. He almost laughs at the quiet growl that rumbles through the phone’s speakers a second later; at least Crosby’s on the same jealous page as them.

“I just know because I’m hear things from KHL!” Malkin says a second later, a placating and almost whining tone suddenly in his voice.

Jonny’s gaze gets even more murderous. Pat had kind of assumed that - what with the fact that Artemi had literally propositioned Jonny after he’d scored two goals in their first regular-season game - but hearing it confirmed makes him grind his teeth with a guilty sort of jealousy.

“Look,” Patrick forces out, “I guess now that we’re not talking in hypotheticals anymore we can actually ask – is he, like, _looking_ for a mate right now? Like, would he be open to it? Or no?”

There’s a little bit of a pause. “He open to it, I think,” Malkin says eventually. “Lonely away from motherland.”

Jonny squeezes Pat’s knee.

“Speaking from experience, even if he’s telling himself he’s not looking and wants to only focus on hockey, it might not matter once he realizes you guys are interested,” says Crosby. “But let us know how it goes, eh?”

“Yeah, I’ll text you daily updates, Sid,” Jonny says dryly.

“If it work, I text Ovechkin and tell him I’m first to know,” says Malkin. “Our Tyusha growing up, gonna be a man! I know when I see three of you go to brunch, I’m tell Sid, maybe just friendly, but maybe Tyusha gonna get lucky. Right, Sid?”

“Thanks for all your help,” Patrick says, lunging for Jonny and pressing the end button on the call before he has to listen to anything else Malkin and Crosby have to say.

Pat and Jonny stare at each other for a few seconds, stupid grins on both of their faces despite the fact that they’re going to have to endure endless chirping the next time they play the Pens.

“Babe,” Pat says, smiling despite himself.

“We’re… gonna court him,” Jonny says slowly.

“We’re gonna court him,” Pat grins, leaning in to kiss his alpha mate.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turbo=Teuvo Teravainen  
> Travis/TVR = Trevor Van Reimsdyk  
> Hammer = Niklas Hjalmarsson  
> Vova = Vladimir Tarasenko  
> Artya = Artem Anisimov  
> Vitya = Viktor Tikhonov
> 
> Also, I made Artemi's English better than it was when he got here so I took some liberties there. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> if you're confused about anything else just ask! Leave me a comment if you have questions/concerns/things to say :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of the courting process, featuring gratuitous amounts of money exchanged for goods and services and a small Sid/Geno cameo.

_Alphas’ Health Magazine | Sex and Love_

_TWELVE COURTING GIFTS THAT SET YOU APART_

_Roses, chocolate, Hallmark cards - they’re okay presents for betas to give each other on Valentine’s Day, but think again if you’re considering using them as courting gifts for omegas._

_That’s right. A new study shows that omegas respond most positively to gifts that they consider unique or personalized - and that run-of-the-mill bouquet most definitely does not fit the bill._

_“Courting itself used to be what set the fittest alphas apart from the pack,” says Dr. Marian Park, a psychiatrist at Northwestern Medicine. “That’s why courting is a modern-day instinct - our most successful alpha ancestors, the ones who courted omegas and bonded with them for life, were the ones who had the most offspring. After enough generations of this process, it got to the point that all alphas carried that instinct - courting became expected, not exciting. Alphas nowadays have to search for ways to make the courting process seem novel and appealing.”_

_Dr. Park says that a good courting gift caters to the omega’s individual interests while showing them that you, the alpha, have what it takes to provide for them and take care of them. We know that’s a pretty broad description, so we’re here to narrow it down for you. Our editors have selected twelve fresh takes on the courting gift - three options for the omega who loves technology, three for the omega who likes to cook, three for the omega who likes staying active, and three for the hardworking professional omega who deserves some ‘me’ time._

“Oh my _god,”_ Patrick groans. “Does Sharpy actually think he’s being helpful or is he just being a dick?”

“Hard to tell,” Jonny says. “On one hand, he’s a beta, on the other hand he’s… himself.”

Patrick shrugs and closes the link Sharpy sent him on his phone, switching back to Google maps. “Alright, it says to take a left at the next light.”

Jonny changes lanes. “This one better be open.”

They’re on their way to a Russian grocery store before practice because they’re awesome alphas who don’t need shitty sexist internet journalists telling them how to woo their omega. Well - it’s their _t_ _hird_ grocery store of the day, actually, and it’s not even 8am yet; the first one was just a Mariano’s that didn’t have the specific brand of jam they know Artemi prefers, and the second one was a Russian store that turned out to be closed this early in the morning.

“Third time’s the charm,” Pat tells Jonny.

He lays his hand over Jonny’s on the gearshift and gives it a little squeeze.

xxx

Artemi’s quiet on the car ride to practice, staring at the passing buildings and sometimes dozing while Artya tells them what his kids got up to yesterday. He has a light, bubbly feeling in his stomach; it’s the same funny feeling he’s had on the way to the rink for the past three days, ever since Patrick and Jonny asked his permission to court him.

Artemi actually hadn’t understood them at first, because he hadn’t known the English word for it, but he’d understood right away when both alphas turned red and told him they wanted to be mates. With _him._

Now Artemi gets more excited every time he’s on his way to see them, and more disappointed every time he goes home to his apartment alone.

Once they get to the IceHouse, Artemi takes a deep breath and tries to settle his nerves, which are all jumping happily at the prospect of seeing Patrick and Jonny again.

“There he goes again,” Vitya says, gesturing to Artemi as they get out of the car.

“I think it’s cute,” Artya says. “Ksenia has been asking for updates every time I get home.”

“I want to tell both of them that they’d better not hurt him, but I’m not comfortable threatening my captain with bodily harm,” says Vitya.

Artya laughs. “We can always ask someone from another team to do it.” He pulls open the door to the rink and holds it for both of them. “How about it, Tyusha, you think Tarasenko would be up for it?”

“ _Stop_ it,” Artemi hisses, blushing despite himself. “No one is threatening anyone.”

He covers up a yawn as they walk through the halls to the locker room; as much as he’d like to become a morning person, he hasn’t accomplished that yet and likely never will. Early-morning practices always wear on him.

But when Artemi walks into the locker room and at least a half-dozen of his teammates glance up at him, grin widely, and turn back to their lockers, he feels considerably more alert. They’re not giving anything away, though, so he makes his way over to his locker, scanning the room and figuring that Jonny and Patrick are already out on the ice.

There’s… a tea set in his locker.

Artemi stares at it for a second, a smile spreading over his face. Two small metal tea pots sit steaming next to a teacup, a little metal spoon, and a jar of Artemi’s favorite raspberry jam.

Artemi’s sure he’s smiling like an idiot but he can’t help himself - they even went so far as to brew a pot of concentrated tea and include a separate pot of water so Artemi can make his tea as strong as he’d like.

“Do you have enough to share?” Vitya asks. “They only gave you one teacup, those assholes.”

On his other side, Artya has his phone out and is most definitely taking a picture to send to Ksenia.

“Sorry, are _you_ the one that’s being courted?” Artemi asks Vitya smugly. “This is all for me.”

“Fuck off,” Vitya laughs, ruffling Artemi’s hair before turning to his own locker.

Artemi fixes himself a cup of tea, happiness suffusing through him at how good it smells. There’s a note next to the jam, which he picks up and reads while his tea cools to a drinkable level.

 _“Mornings suck but hopefully this makes it a little bit better :)”_ is in what Artemi recognizes as Patrick’s handwriting. Then, _“It’s not good to have too much caffeine before practice so it’s a blend of regular and decaf to keep you from crashing”_ in Jonny’s.

Feeling warm all over, Artemi presses his lips together in an effort to contain his fond smile. Judging by the looks on his teammates’ faces, he’s probably failing miserably.

“Watching them scramble around to make sure the water was hot enough for when you got here was the best thing I’ve ever seen,” Shaw says. “I think Bicks got it on video.”

“It was cute,” Trevor tells Artemi earnestly as Artemi takes a sip of his tea, which is delicious. Of course. “The other guys were chirping them non-stop but they just kept saying everything had to be perfect.”

Artemi laughs. “This only tea. Not _need_ perfect.”

“I _know,”_ Trevor says. “I know, right? I had no idea they’d be such perfectionists. And this is just the first gift, man! They’re gonna go all-out for the big ones, I can tell. You’re so lucky.”

Artemi ducks his head shyly, his face burning, and Trevor just pats him on the shoulder in understanding before going back to his own locker.

By the time Artemi’s finished his tea, gotten changed, and made his way out to the ice, most of the team is already there. Jonny’s talking with Coach Q, so Artemi skates straight over to Patrick, who smiles when he sees him.

“Hey,” Patrick says, trying to run his fingers through his hair before evidently realizing he’s wearing gloves and a helmet. Artemi thinks it’s a nervous habit. “Did you get the tea?”

“Yes,” says Artemi. “Very good. I’m - tired, when I come here, so tea very good. Where you find jam?”

Patrick laughs softly. “We went to a couple different stores, so at this point I couldn’t tell you the name, but it was this little Russian grocery store a couple miles from here. We got the tea there too - I was ready to go with the owner’s recommendation, but Jonny got all weird about the caffeine and - sorry, just. I’m glad you liked it.”

It’s generally understood that practices are neither the time nor the place for dynamics displays, but his alphas trying so earnestly to please him makes Artemi want to bare his throat. He bites his lip, glancing down at Patrick’s mouth despite himself, and-

“We’re gonna start with some passing drills around the cones,” Q yells.

Artemi and Patrick stare at each other for just a second longer - Patrick’s eyes are very blue - and then Artemi breaks his gaze, heart rabbiting in his chest as he skates away and tries to get into his practice mindset.

After a few hours, the team is released until five o’clock that evening, which is call time for tonight’s game against the Avs. Artemi doesn’t think he takes a particularly long time in the showers, but by the time he’s wrapped a towel around his hips and walked back to his locker, Jonny is standing in front of it, fully dressed and holding some kind of bright green juice in a travel tumbler.

Jonny - has another gift for him, Artemi realizes, and then Jonny smiles so brightly at him that Artemi instinctively starts to tilt his head to the side before he stops himself just in time, blushing all the way down to his bare chest. Here he is, dripping wet and wearing only a towel, about to bare his throat in the fucking _locker room_.

“Here, I just - shit, I probably should’ve waited ‘til you got dressed,” Jonny says. He’s got this oddly intense look on his face that makes Artemi feel completely naked. Not that that’s necessarily a bad thing. “But I drink this before all my games, made it this morning, and I thought you might like some too.”

“You make?” Artemi asks.

Jonny nods. “Yeah, I have a juice machine at home. You’ll have to let me know if you don’t like it, because I can change the-”

He cuts off when Artemi leans in to reach the straw and takes a sip of juice, which Jonny is still holding. It tastes healthy, like citrus and ginger with a pleasantly bitter bite, and Artemi makes an appreciative noise when he leans back and licks his lips. “Very good.”

Then he meets Jonny’s eyes and almost whimpers at the intensity he finds.

“That’s good,” Jonny says, then clears his throat. “I - I’m glad you like it.” He turns around and sets the juice in Artemi’s stall. “I’ll bring some next time too, if you want. Just let me know. I’m gonna - well, you need to - do you have a ride home?”

“Artya give me ride,” Artemi tells him softly. He clutches his towel a little more tightly around his waist, but only because he’s afraid he’ll fucking drop it if Jonny keeps looking at him like that.

“Great,” says Jonny, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, see you later, then.”

He glances down at Artemi’s lips for just a second before brushing past him to leave. Artemi takes a breath in through his nose on instinct, smells hints of pine and musk - and wasn’t _that_ a mistake, because he has to shut his eyes tightly and breathe through his mouth for a minute, fighting against his body’s urge to slick up.

 

_October 22, Two Days Later_

Dropping Artemi off after practice, Jonny thinks to himself that they should probably get heated seats installed in the back seat of their Mercedes.

“Need say many times, cold okay,” Artemi insists, even though he’s shivering. “I from Russia.”

“Has your landlord gotten back to you about the insulation in your bedroom?” Jonny asks him, shifting the car into park so he can turn around to talk to Artemi.

Artemi shakes his head. “No. Is - hard to talk with him. He talk very fast, I not understand everything.”

Pat frowns and glances at Jonny, then says, “If you give us his number we can try to talk some sense into him.”

Artemi giggles. “You just be bullies!”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Jonny says, trying and failing not to smile. “But we, uh, we got you something for the meantime, since it’s starting to get colder out.”

Artemi bites his lip and looks in between the two of them as Kaner pulls the gift bag out from where he’d been keeping it in between his feet during the car ride. He hands it back to Artemi and says, “Technically it’s not as warm as sheepskin but-”

Artemi’s eyes go wide. “No, no sheep.”

“That’s what we thought,” Jonny smiles. “It’s cashmere, cruelty free. Uh, no animals hurt.”

Artemi smiles warmly and opens the bag, pulling out an ivory-colored blanket. He runs his fingers over it for a few seconds and makes a small sound before pressing it to his cheek and purring quietly.

Jonny’s chest feels like it tightens and expands at the same time. He watches Artemi helplessly, this omega so pleased with his gift, and turns to look at Kaner, feeling broken-open and sure that it’s showing on his face.

“Glad you like it,” Kaner manages, his voice cracking.

“I _love,”_ Artemi says fervently.

Jonny feels light-headed, honest to god. “That’s - so good, I’m really glad.”

Artemi blushes a little bit and opens his mouth like he’s about to say something else, then closes it again.

“Does Friday night still work for you?” Pat asks Artemi.

Artemi’s blush deepens but he nods. “Last week, make plan to Skype my grandparents Friday, but I tell them yesterday, we need to change day for Skype.”

“Oh, Jesus.” Kaner runs a hand through his hair. “You could’ve - you didn’t have to move that around just so we could have a date, we could’ve rescheduled-”

“No, they happy change schedule,” Artemi says with a small smile. “I tell them why, they _very_ happy. They want to meet you both.”

Jonny gulps. “I hope our dates go well, then.”

Kaner laughs. “Yeah, you gotta make sure you like both of us individually. What happens if you fall madly in love with me but end up hating Jonny’s guts?”

“Fuck off, Kaner,” Jonny grumbles. He can’t put any heat behind it, though, especially when Artemi’s giggling at the very thought, like it’s ridiculous to him. “My dates are gonna be way better than yours.”

“It’s not a competition,” Pat sing-songs.

“Yes, but happy to judge,” says Artemi, tossing in a little wink that makes Jonny want to throw himself into oncoming traffic.

 

_October 24_

“How do I look?” Pat calls, eyeing himself critically in the bedroom mirror.

“You look great, babe,” Jonny yells from the living room.

“You’re not even looking at me,” Pat whines. “I think I need to change my shirt.”

Jonny heaves a sigh and makes his way into the bedroom. “No, keep that shirt, it’s the one that makes your shoulders look extra broad, remember?”

Patrick looks at himself critically and wishes he could do something about his hairline. “You don’t think I should change anything?”

“No, babe,” Jonny says. He walks over and presses up against Pat’s back, tucking his chin over Pat’s shoulder. “Go get him.”

Patrick looks at the pair of them in the mirror, chest growing warm. “Jonny?”

“Yeah?”

“This is like - really stupid, because we’re obviously both all in, so we definitely feel the same way, but I just wanna say it out loud-”

“What is it?” asks Jonny. He winds his arms around Pat’s waist.

“I just - I don’t know how to explain it, exactly, but it’s not like we _needed_ an omega before, right? I would’ve been happy being with just for you for the rest of my life.”

Jonny frowns. “Right, but-”

“But Temi’s amazing,” Patrick continues quickly, before Jonny can get the wrong idea. “He makes a good thing even better, yeah? So I guess what I’m trying to say is - fucking Crosby was exactly right.”

Jonny bursts out laughing, muffles the sound against Pat’s neck after a few moments. It tickles and Pat laughs quietly too. “I’ll be sure to pass on the praise.”

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” Patrick says. “I’m trying to have a heartfelt moment with you, don’t ruin it, Jonathan.”

“‘Kay,” Jonny grins, kissing his neck and squeezing around his middle. “I know what you mean, though. It’s why I was nervous about bringing it up to you in the first place - I didn’t want you to think you weren’t enough, you know?”

“Right.”

They smile at each other in the mirror for a few moments, then Jonny pulls back and swats Patrick’s ass soundly. “Go get our boy, Kaner.”

xxx

To Patrick’s credit, he’s done _very_ well this season by not losing his shit at any and all opposing players who lay any kind of hit on or even get _near_ Artemi, so it’s pretty fucking unsettling that he has to stop himself from _growling_ at the restaurant valet who opens Artemi’s door before Patrick can jog around and open it himself.

 _He’s just doing his job,_ Patrick tells himself, repeating that thought a couple times as he hands the valet his keys and guides Artemi away from the curb with a hand on the small of his back.

They have to take an elevator up a couple of floors to get to the restaurant - Spiaggia - itself, but that’s because it looks out onto Lake Michigan and the views would be pretty shitty if it was on the ground floor. Patrick’s rented out their private room for the occasion, the one at the corner of the building with completely glass walls that give a perfect view of the lake, reflecting the city’s lights at night.

Pat could have rented out the entire restaurant, but that seemed like a little much for a first date. He’ll save that shit for the second date.

“Italian?” Artemi asks quietly, nostrils flaring as the elevator gets closer to the restaurant.

“Yeah, I figured that you telling me you hadn’t had real Italian food in years was a cry for help,” Patrick says.

Artemi laughs quietly, then his eyes widen as the elevator doors slide open and reveal just how beautiful the restaurant is. _“Oh.”_

He keeps a hand on Artemi’s back and walks them over to the hostess’ desk, where a brunette woman smiles at them. “Hello, Mr. Kane. We’re very honored to have you dining with us tonight. Whenever you’re ready you can follow me.”

“Mr. Kane,” Artemi whispers as they follow the hostess to their private room, separated from the main part of the restaurant by some thick glass walls.

Patrick snickers. “Every time someone calls me that it makes me wanna text Sharpy and prove to him that I’m an adult.”

“Patrick Sharp, yes?” Artemi asks as they settle into their table.

“Yeah.” Patrick takes a second to glance around and make sure the room’s exactly what he asked for: their table is situated by one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, the lights are dimmed slightly, and the only other furniture in the room is a couch with a small coffee table, in case they decide they want after-dinner tea or something like that. “Yeah, I wish you guys had overlapped, he got traded to Dallas just before you got here. We play them in a few weeks, though, and I’m sure he’ll want to meet you then.”

“Sounds like meeting big brother,” Artemi says.

Patrick laughs. “Yeah, basically. Speaking of that, sorry again about messing up your call with your grandparents.”

“Is fine,” Artemi waves him off. “They want I call them after I get back tonight.”

“I guess that works with the time difference, right?”

Artemi nods, then blushes. “I think they want make sure I come home, um, alone.”

Patrick sucks in a breath and feels his face heat up. They lock eyes for a fraction of a second before their waiter - a beta, Patrick scents immediately - arrives at their table with a pleasantly bland expression.

“Hello, gentlemen, thank you for choosing Spiaggia,” he says. “My name is Maurice and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Have you dined with us before?”

“Nope, first time for both of us,” Patrick says.

“Okay, I’ll lay out the format of the menu, then,” says Maurice. “We have two options in our _sala privata:_ one is a tasting menu, up to ten very small courses chosen by our chef, and the other one is our a la carte menu, which gives you your choice of four full courses, three options for each.” He hands them each a menu. “Can I get you anything to drink to start out?”

“Yeah, do you have San Pellegrino?” Patrick asks.

“Certainly,” says Maurice. “We have… blood orange, lemon, grapefruit, and… bitter citrus, is the fourth one.”

Patrick makes a face at whatever _bitter citrus_ is. “I’ll have lemon.”

Maurice turns to Artemi. “And for you, sir?”

“Grapefruit, please,” Artemi says.

“Will you be needing the wine list this evening?” Maurice asks.

“Nah, we’re good,” Patrick says, his mouth quirking up a little despite his best efforts. “Thanks.”

“Certainly. I’ll be back right away with your drinks,” Maurice says. He tucks the wine list under his arm and leaves.

“This seemed like too classy of a place to order iced tea,” Patrick tells Artemi.

Iced tea is what he usually orders at brunch.

“Should order iced tea _no_ place,” Artemi says fervently. Patrick laughs; iced tea is definitely _not_ what Artemi usually orders. He’d had a sip of Pat’s once and had _hated_ it. “You order in front of my dedushka, he disown you.”

Patrick laughs. He gets this little bittersweet pang in his stomach sometimes, when Artemi talks about his grandfather - only because Pat misses his own grandpa so much. “Did your grandparents live in the same town as you, growing up?”

Artemi nods. “I live with them when I’m small. They…” He mumbles something in Russian. “Not sure how to say, they… help me grow up?”

“They raised you?” Pat asks. Then he realizes Artemi doesn’t know that word, so he tries, “Like, for me, my parents raised me, so they, uh, let’s see, they cooked for me, bought me clothes, helped me with school, drove me to practices-”

“Yes,” Artemi says, nodding. “Raise?”

“Yeah, like you say someone raised you,” says Patrick.

“Hmm.” Artemi shapes his mouth around the words a couple of times. “Yes, grandparents raised me.”

Patrick wants to ask about his parents, but he doesn’t want to seem like he’s prying. Instead, he offers, “My grandpa was my best friend, growing up. When I was a teenager I’d sometimes threaten my parents that I’d run away and live with my grandpa instead.”

“You sound like terrible teenager.” Artemi laughs. Patrick splutters. “I meet him sometime?”

“Oh, he. Uh.” Patrick swallows. “He died, a couple years ago.”

Artemi makes a soft noise and reaches out to touch the back of Pat’s hand, lightly. “Very sorry.”

“Thanks,” Pat says. He meets Artemi’s eyes then, and it’s not a flirty gaze - for the first time in weeks, probably - it’s just genuine. Sweet.

Artemi’s fingers are warm, and Patrick turns his hand over so he can capture them gently, squeezing once.

Then the door to the room opens and Maurice breaks the moment, again. Pat can’t find it in himself to be annoyed, though, because how else were they supposed to get back to normal conversation, after that? _So, how ‘bout those Bears, huh?_ He shudders. Maurice is going to be getting a very generous tip.

“Your sparkling waters,” Maurice says, setting a glass in front of each of them. “Have you given any thought to the menu?”

Patrick glances down at the menu once, then asks, “You said there were three options for each course for the four-course dinner, right?”

“That’s correct, yes,” Maurice says.

“We’ll just - get all of them.” He glances up at Artemi. “If that’s cool with you.”

Artemi’s eyes are a little wide, fixed on the menu. “Much.”

“I’m sure we can put it away,” Pat tells him. “We had a game yesterday and a game tomorrow.” He turns to Maurice. “We, uh, play hockey.”

“Yes, I’m - aware,” Maurice says with a small smile. “I hope you crush the Wild tomorrow. So, the entire a la carte menu, you said?”

“Yeah, one of everything,” Patrick agrees. “Thanks.”

“It’s my pleasure,” says Maurice. “Please let me know if you need anything else.”

He takes their menus and leaves.

“Is a _lot,_ for one dinner,” Artemi says.

Patrick realizes he’s talking about the price and almost laughs, mind flitting to the jewelry box burning a hole in the pocket of his slacks, then to the gift he and Jonny have planned after two dates each. Fuck’s sake, they just dropped five grand on a _blanket_. Seven hundred dollars on a dinner seems like a bargain, at this point. “Don’t worry about it, babe. I hear it’s really good.”

 

_Meanwhile, in Pittsburgh_

Sidney can feel his eyelids drooping.

He remembers complaining about this couch when Geno first bought it, saying that it wasn’t as firm as he’d like and didn’t have enough back support, but that really doesn’t feel like a problem right now. Sid curls his bare toes in the carpet and sighs happily, wiggling a little bit to get even more comfortable while being careful not to disturb Geno’s head, pillowed in his lap.

Geno makes a low, happy noise when Sidney runs fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. He’d put on one of his Russian soaps earlier, and it’s apparently cycled into reruns, the comforting drone of a half-familiar language pressing Sidney’s eyes fully closed.

The only reason he’s trying not to let sleep take him is because there’s a new episode of Property Brothers coming on in ten minutes, and it’s one of the only shows Sid actually keeps up with. He secretly hopes Geno’s asleep by the time it comes on so Sid can change the channel and watch Jonathan and Drew make over a house in peace without any of Geno’s snarky commentary on their design choices.

Sid pets the top of Geno’s head fondly and thinks that Geno really isn’t one to talk about bad design choices.

About two minutes into their quiet drifting, Sidney’s phone buzzes on the arm of the couch. Sidney cracks open one eye and glares at it, until he tilts the screen and sees it’s from Jon. He thumbs it open.

**Hey man I know you were probably joking about wanting updates but the first date is tonight. We’re really doing this!**

**Thought you guys would both get a kick out of that**

Sid smiles and takes his hand out of Geno’s hair so he can type back a response. Geno’s mostly asleep but he still manages to make his displeasure known, nuzzling his head back toward where Sid’s hand had been.

**That’s great! Happy for you. Where are you guys going for the date?**

Jon’s response is almost immediate.

**Oh it’s just Kaner and Temi tonight**

**We’re switching off bc we figured that was less intimidating**

Sid thinks back, tries to imagine being courted by two Genos at once, and finds himself agreeing.

**It’s a good thing the two of you are already together or else I’d be worried about separate dates getting competitive**

**I mean it is getting a LITTLE competitive** , Jon texts back.

Sidney smiles and texts, **Are you two trying to outdo each other with gifts?**

“Who you texting?” Geno mumbles, turning so he’s on his back and blinking blearily up at Sid.

“Toews,” Sid tells him. Geno makes a face. “They’re finally courting Panarin, both of them.”

Geno smiles at the news, fond and bright, just as Sid’s phone buzzes again, this time with picture messages and captions.

“Oh, geez,” Sid says, scrolling through screenshots of Jon and Kane’s courting gifts. “They're really going all out.”

“What they get Tyusha?” Geno mumbles.

“Let's see, we got a cashmere blanket, a Rolex - what's rose gold?”

“Gold, but color pink,” says Geno. “You want?”

“You just got me a new watch a few months ago,” Sidney tells him. “Anyway, what else - ooh, Jon’s gonna give him a diamond pendant to wear on his chain, and a couple of Tiffany necklaces that sort of look like - they look like mesh, but they're made of that same rose gold stuff.”

“Good they spoil him,” Geno says.

“Yeah.” Then a new picture message pops up on Sid’s phone. “Holy shit.”

“What?”

Sid gives him the phone instead of answering; he figures the picture of the metallic grey Tesla Model S the two of them are planning on giving Panarin does more justice than trying to describe it to Geno. Jon _would_ go for an electric car.

“That car’s, like, over a hundred grand even if they didn’t add any features,” Sid says. “And I'm sure they did.”

Geno sighs sadly. “I get you gifts like this, if not have rookie salary when I’m court.”

“What? I wouldn't have wanted stuff like this, Geno, I _loved_ your gifts,” Sidney tells him earnestly.

He takes his phone back so he can text Jon, **Those are awesome! Geno and I approve** and puts a thumbs-up emoji in there for good measure.

Geno’s still pouting, so Sidney shifts them so he’s on his back, lying lengthwise along the couch with Geno resting his chin on Sid’s stomach. Geno stares up at him, eyes sad but still playful. “I need to buy you gifts for anniversary.”

Sid wonders idly if getting rid of those statues in the driveway would be an appropriate anniversary present to ask for. He smiles at his alpha and starts petting his hair again. “It’ll be our _ninth,_ G, you know I’m a sure thing. You don’t need to posture.”

Geno laughs and nuzzles Sid’s stomach. “I need to show everyone I’m best. Sid deserve best.”

Sid hums and sinks his fingers deeper into Geno’s hair, tugging affectionately just to make him purr. His cock stirs a little bit, interested but not urgent, just from the sheer number of times they’ve been in this position that Geno’s subsequently slipped the rest of the way down to plant his face right in between Sidney’s legs. He sighs, feeling decadent. “Geno.”

“My Sidnyushka,” Geno croons, pushing himself halfway up Sid’s body to join their lips together briefly. “What you want for anniversary? You want island? I think I buy you island.”

He settles back down as Sid laughs and says, “I don’t need an _island.”_

Geno pouts and kisses the thin strip of skin on Sidney’s abdomen where his t-shirt’s ridden up above the waistband of his shorts; Sidney squirms a little bit and tries to remember if he has Property Brothers set to record.

“Sid deserve island,” Geno says mournfully, kissing his stomach again. “You think about, let me know, okay?”

Then he dips his mouth lower, which is when Sid remembers just how persuasive he can be.

 

_Back in Chicago_

“Yeah, I think it would be tough just while you’re adjusting to the NHL schedule and away from home a lot, but it’s definitely doable,” Patrick says as they settle onto the couch, looking out at the sparkling dark lake. “Lots of guys on the team have dogs.”

“I wait a few months, maybe, then try,” Artemi says, scooting close to Patrick.

Pat takes a deep breath and rests his arm across the back of the couch, feeling like every rom-com cliche rolled into one big ball of anxiety. “What kind of dog would you want?”

“Not sure,” says Artemi. “Small dog, maybe? Not too big.”

“Yeah, the bigger he is, the more you’ll have to walk him ‘cause he’ll be cooped up in an apartment.”

Artemi frowns. “Maybe I get in offseason - I not gone as often, he get used to me.”

“That makes sense,” Patrick says. He finally settles his arm on Artemi’s shoulders, squeezing gently. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about him getting used to you if you get a puppy, though - spend a couple days straight with him and he’ll love you forever.”

Artemi giggles, pleased, as Maurice walks into the room with a couple of busboys, who start clearing plates from the table.

“How did you find the entrees, gentlemen?”

“They were delicious,” Patrick says.

Artemi pats at his stomach. “Never eat again.”

Maurice laughs. “Well, hopefully you saved some room for dessert, because our chefs are preparing three different dishes for you as we speak.”

Artemi groans exaggeratedly, but he can’t keep a straight face, mouth curving up into a grin. Patrick laughs and rubs his shoulder.

“Can I interest you in any after-dinner espresso or tea?” Maurice asks. He hands them a small menu of options that Patrick already knows includes different kinds of fancy-sounding imported teas - it was one of the reasons he chose this place.

He watches Artemi scan the tea list eagerly, full lips pursing as he weighs his options. Christ, making him smile is fucking _addictive._

“I’ll just have a coffee,” Pat tells Maurice while they wait. “Decaf, if you have it.”

“Certainly,” says Maurice.

Artemi turns the menu toward Maurice and points at one of the teas. “This, please.”

“Excellent. Your desserts will be ready in just a few minutes, and I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

When dessert does come, Patrick realizes they’ll definitely need to box some of it up. There’s a large slice of layered black-and-white cake plated with candied almonds and chocolate-covered strawberries, a plate of what look like cream puffs rolled in cinnamon sugar, and a bowl of ricotta drizzled with some kind of syrup served with kiwi slices and strawberry gelato.

“Jonny’s gonna kill me,” Pat mumbles after Maurice leaves.

“He not know if we not tell,” Artemi says, taking a sip of his tea and winking at Patrick.

Patrick puts both hands over his heart and gasps. “You wanna keep secrets already?”

Artemi laughs and reaches for one of the strawberries. “Maybe not, but I tell him is your fault.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Patrick gripes. “The joke’s gonna be on him when we’re full of energy for tomorrow’s game.”

The glint of Artemi’s new rose gold Rolex catches Pat’s eye as Artemi draws his hand back, clutching a chocolate-covered strawberry; Pat gently catches his wrist on impulse, rubbing his thumb over the thin skin. He doesn’t miss the way Artemi inhales sharply. “This looks good on you.”

He might be imagining it, but Patrick thinks he can feel Artemi’s pulse pick up. “Thank you,” Artemi says, blush visible even in the dim light. “I love it.”

He’d said the same thing when Pat had given it to him during dinner, and Pat has to wonder if he’ll ever get tired of hearing his omega say that he loves his gifts. It makes his chest feel tight, makes him feel more like an alpha than he maybe ever has, walking the thin line between wild and controlled.

Artemi makes a small noise, and Patrick realizes he’s still holding on to his wrist; on instinct, he plucks the strawberry out of Artemi’s hand and holds it up to his lips in invitation. Artemi glances over at him and blinks slowly before licking his lips and then wrapping them around the strawberry as his eyes slide closed.

 _Jesus._ Is he - he’s _sucking the chocolate off the strawberry_. Now Pat’s the one who’s making tiny embarrassing noises.

Eventually Artemi bites the fruit, but that’s even _worse,_ because his lips brush Pat’s fingers where he’s holding the stem. There’s a weird kind of rumble building in Pat’s chest but he wills himself to stay quiet, not wanting to break the careful trance they’ve slipped into. He brushes his thumb across Artemi’s lower lip, just a fleeting touch, before setting down the strawberry stem and picking up a fork instead, spearing a bite of cake and offering it to Artemi.

Artemi’s eyes are wide, and he whines, not so quietly this time; his hand is hot where he plants it on Patrick’s thigh to steady himself, leaning forward and letting Patrick slide the cake past his lips. Pat lets go of his wrist and wraps that arm around his waist instead, feeling greedy as he draws Artemi closer.

“Good?” he asks quietly.

Artemi nods. “More?”

Pat hisses out a breath and feeds him another bite of cake, surprised that his hand isn’t shaking. He picks up one of the cream puffs next and feeds it to Artemi in three bites, leaving him with cinnamon sugar all over his lips and a smear of the filling in the corner of his mouth.

Patrick wonders if these desserts were specifically designed to be this suggestive, or if he’s just getting hard because he’s whipped as fuck for someone he hasn’t even mated yet.

Probably the second one, he muses as Artemi licks strawberry gelato off of his spoon.

The desserts are all delicious, once Pat gets around to trying them himself; he keeps Artemi tucked against his side, sipping his tea and smelling faintly of sweet arousal. Luckily, Pat’s mind hasn’t completely deserted him - he knows they’re essentially in a public place, so he keeps his mouth to himself, even though he _desperately_ wants to kiss the sugar off of Artemi’s lips.

Things have cooled off slightly by the time Maurice arrives with the check and offers to box up half of the cake to go. While he takes care of that, Patrick takes care of feeding Artemi the remaining slices of kiwi, since the fruit probably wouldn’t travel well.

It would be so fucking easy to just… press his fingers further into Artemi’s mouth, Pat thinks as Artemi’s lips touch his fingertips again. He can’t tear his eyes away.

Patrick is sure his scent’s revealing his interest just as much as Artemi’s is; it’s fucking _torture_ waiting for the valet to get his car, knowing that anyone walking by could smell Artemi like this: needy and unfulfilled. Artemi’s face is a little flushed, but other than that he just looks serene, standing by Pat’s side with his box of cake, flashy new watch on his wrist.

“You know, if you really want to piss off Jonny, you should have that cake for breakfast tomorrow then tell him about it at practice,” Patrick says once they’re safely inside his car.

Artemi laughs. “Yes, I tell him cake for breakfast. I have death wish.”

It’s Patrick’s turn to laugh as he starts to navigate them back to Artemi’s apartment. Their scents are still simmering with mild arousal and the enclosed space of the car is only intensifying it, but it’s something Pat’s able to push to the back of his mind as he drives.

Then Artemi follows that up with, “I miss him.”

“Hmm?” Pat hums, hands tightening on the steering wheel as he stops at a red light.

“I know why we do dates separate,” Artemi says, “for court. I know why I go out with you, then him, then you, then him, and I like, but - I like best with _both._ You _and_ Jonny, with me.”

Patrick swallows, then reaches over for Artemi’s hand, slotting their fingers together. “Hey, me too.” Artemi sighs and squeezes his hand, and the light turns green. Patrick doesn’t take his hand back. “We just - we already know Jonny and I get along one-on-one, we just have to make sure it’s true for you and me, and you and him.”

Artemi raises an eyebrow. “Get along?”

Pat feels his face heat up. “Well - okay, more than get along.”

“I think at first I translate wrong,” Artemi teases him.

“Yeah right,” says Pat. “You’re way better at English than you want people to think.”

He spends the rest of the ride chirping Artemi about the way he pretends to forget all English when anyone, especially the media, approaches him about something he doesn’t want to talk about. Artemi, in turn, chirps Patrick about his media monotone.

“Where did you learn the word ‘monotone?’” Pat asks as he pulls up to the curb next to Artemi’s building.

“Shawzy teach,” Artemi says, looking far too pleased with himself. “Is right, yes? Or he teach wrong?”

“No, he’s right, he just sucks,” says Patrick.

Artemi laughs. He looks radiant, and they’re still holding hands, and Patrick’s in way over his fucking head. So he takes a deep breath and says, “Can I walk you up to your apartment?”

Artemi’s smile stays on his face and he ducks his head, shy. “Yes, please.”

Pat turns the car off and puts the flashers on in a half-hearted attempt to explain why he’s parked in a permit-only zone, but the truth is he doesn’t give a shit if he gets ticketed or towed as long as he can spend more time alone with Artemi like this. Artemi pulls out his keys and lets them both into the small lobby, waving at one of his neighbors as he passes by. The neighbor, a beta woman, waves back as they walk by; out of the corner of his eye, Patrick sees her do a double-take after they’ve passed.

Artemi’s apartment is on the eleventh floor, so Pat takes the time to appreciatively check out the elevator while they’re inside, which looks sleek and safe and up-to-code. He tells Artemi as much.

“You and Jonny not so different,” Artemi says as the elevator opens on the eleventh floor.

“Excuse you,” Pat scoffs.

“Is true! You both want protect me,” says Artemi, leading them down the hallway. “More than I need.”

“Well that’s - we - I just-”

“Is cute,” Artemi grins. He stops in front of one of the doors. “This mine.”

Pat hums in understanding, senses suddenly in overdrive as he weighs the options for what he wants to do next. Artemi turns around, looking at him with those huge blue eyes, and licks his lips, still clutching his box of cake.

“Your grandparents are probably waiting for you to call them,” Patrick says.

Artemi nods. “Yes.”

They stare at each other for a second longer before Pat finally snaps into motion, crowding Artemi up against the wall next to his front door. Artemi drops his box and winds both of his hands around Pat’s neck, pulling him closer, and for a second they just take each other in, relishing being so close in each other’s space. Then Pat reaches up with one hand to thumb over Artemi’s jaw before leaning in to gently press their mouths together.

He means to keep it sweet and (sort of) chaste, he really does, but that gets shot to hell about five seconds in when Artemi tugs him in, bringing the rest of their bodies as close as their lips are, flush together. They’re about the same height, built similarly, so their hips are positioned perfectly to let their cocks push against each other. Patrick isn’t really hard anymore but he feels like he could get back there pretty fucking fast, especially when Artemi moans and lets Patrick slip his tongue inside his mouth.

He groans and thumbs at Artemi’s jaw again, coaxing him into opening his mouth a little wider, and settles his other hand on Artemi’s hip as he licks into his mouth. Artemi whimpers softly, like he doesn’t even know he’s making noise, and follows Patrick’s tongue with his own when Patrick pulls it back. He shifts, rubbing his body against Patrick’s, then gasps when Patrick grinds forward to still him, unable to help himself from pressing their cocks together.

“Fuck,” Pat mumbles against Artemi’s mouth.

Artemi draws Pat’s lower lip into his mouth and sucks on it for a few agonizing moments before letting go and tonguing over where Pat’s lip is already throbbing. Pat nudges Artemi’s legs further apart until he’s able to fit between them, pushing Artemi more firmly against the wall to get more leverage to grind against him as they kiss. Artemi moans and drops one of his hands to the small of Patrick’s back, encouraging him to press his hips forward, and Patrick growls lowly as he scents Artemi’s arousal, more intense than he’s ever smelled it before.

Artemi kisses similarly to Jonny, actually, intense and single-minded; the only difference is that he’s much happier to let Patrick take the lead, sighing contentedly every time Pat angles Artemi’s head where he wants it or pushes his tongue into Artemi’s mouth.

Artemi actually kind of sags in between the wall and Patrick’s body when Patrick starts to fuck his tongue in and out of his mouth, trying to convey how desperately he wishes they were doing this with fewer clothes on. Pat’s making his knees weak, he realizes, and he growls in triumph and lets go of Artemi’s hip to grab onto his thigh and hike Artemi’s leg up.

Artemi gasps and clutches him tighter, wrapping his leg around Patrick’s waist as Patrick steadies him. When they break away to breathe, he asks, “Come inside?”

Pat swears and kisses him again, gripping his leg tight enough to bruise and shoving him up against the wall again and again. They’re both hard now and Pat’s mouth is watering - he’s suffocating in Artemi’s scent, instinct telling him that Artemi’s ready for him, that he’s wet between his legs-

“Come inside,” Artemi pleads, mumbling it into Patrick’s mouth. “Please?”

Patrick sighs, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead against Artemi’s. He wants literally nothing more than to take Artemi up on his offer, but he and Jonny had agreed that nothing past kissing would happen without all three of them being there. Artemi and Jonny haven’t even gone on a single date yet.

“Baby, I want to,” he says. He strokes his hand over Artemi’s cheek. “But we wanna wait til Jonny can be here too.”

Artemi huffs. “We call him?”

Pat almost wants to laugh. “Jonny and I have a _plan,_ Temi, we’re trying to stick to it. You gotta let us spoil you a little more.”

“Can spoil me now,” Artemi says, rubbing against him. Patrick swears.

“I want to. I _really_ want to. It’s gonna be worth it to wait, though, I promise, I - just -” Patrick and Jonny _had a plan,_ it just all seems super lame and unnecessary when Pat’s got his omega in his arms, begging, so he cuts himself off by kissing Artemi again before he can do something stupid like agree to go inside.

He lowers Artemi’s leg to the ground slowly, trying to cool the kiss down, trying to make it anything less than scorching and completely fucking overwhelming - but Artemi’s still making those little noises as their tongues slide together, and Pat’s only got so much self-control left. He bites Artemi’s lip gently then pulls away, dropping kisses down the line of Artemi’s jaw before burying his face where Artemi’s neck meets his shoulder.

Artemi’s scent is even stronger here; Patrick knows this is near where the venus gland sits just under the surface of his throat, and he moans a little despite himself, clutching Artemi close as both of them catch their breath. Artemi rubs at the back of Pat’s neck and Pat shivers.

“Soon, though,” he mumbles against Artemi’s throat.

Artemi exhales. “Soon,” he echoes.

xxx

After Patrick gives him one more thorough kiss goodnight and Artemi thanks him profusely for dinner and the watch, Artemi slips inside his apartment and closes the door with shaking hands.

He puts the cake in the fridge, then he pulls his phone out of his pocket on the way to his bedroom and quickly texts his grandfather, **Skype in one hour?**

That should give him enough time to get off and shower, even though he wants nothing more to keep Patrick’s scent on him.  God, he’s still fucking _shaking,_ hard in his pants and uncomfortably slick between his legs. There’s no way he’s going to survive actually having sex with Patrick, let alone Jonny too. He’s going to die from being too turned on.

Artemi sets his phone on his nightstand and strips his clothes off, grabbing an old towel and spreading it over the sheets on his bed. If he turns his head against his shoulder he can still smell where Patrick’s mouth was, where he scented him, and it makes Artemi’s cock twitch. He wraps his hand around it and gives himself a few strokes to take the edge off, gripping his nightstand for support.

It doesn’t really help at all - he’s too wound up, feels too empty inside, and finally he lets go of himself and reaches inside his nightstand for his vibrator.

It’s fairly small, as vibrators go, which Artemi normally enjoys because it means he can focus on his prostate, but right now he’s aching for something big inside him. He stares at his vibrator balefully for a few seconds before climbing on the bed and getting on his knees on the towel, too turned on to be picky.

He reaches back to rub a fingertip over his hole and almost gasps at how wet he is; he doesn’t remember ever being this wet outside of heat. Artemi spreads his legs a little wider, presses at his hole and hisses at how easily it gives, and how fucking _good_ it feels to have even a fingertip inside. He pushes his finger inside to the last knuckle, draws it out and gives himself two, face heating up at the slick sounds his body makes as he fucks himself with his fingers.

Finally Artemi decides he can’t wait any longer. He makes sure his quilt is out of the way so it won’t get dirty, and arranges his new cashmere blanket very high up by his pillow, so it’s close at hand but won’t get dirty either. It - it smells like Patrick, and like Jonny; when Artemi had first gotten it, he’d cuddled with it in his bed for an hour before getting himself off, slow and luxurious, wrapped in his alphas’ scents and careful not to get anything on the cashmere.

He brings his vibrator between his legs, positioning it carefully and pressing it inside in one smooth slide. “Mmnn,” he grits out, biting his lip and throwing his head back.

Artemi’s certain he’s going to come almost as soon as he turns the vibrator on. He imagines Patrick watching him do it, laughing a little like he can’t believe Artemi’s so easy for it - or maybe Jonny watching him, eyes so intense, telling him how good he’s being.

Artemi drops a hand to his cock and only needs three pulls before he’s coming with a groan, shooting up onto his stomach as his body clutches hard around the vibrator. Some of his release drips onto the towel and he whimpers as his cock blurts out a few last drops, still spasming around the vibrator that’s _not even turned on yet,_ for fuck’s sake.

His alphas are going to kill him, and they’re not even _here._

Artemi gives himself a few moments to calm down, feeling a little sensitive inside, but he feels like that orgasm only just barely got the edge off. It reminds him of when he’s in heat, except obviously not as intense and agonizing. He wipes his hand on the towel, breathing hard, and reaches up with both hands to pluck at his nipples lightly as he rocks back and forth on the toy.

He’s still imagining Jonny and Patrick watching him, giving him encouragement in a way that makes his insides feel all tangled up, except when he reaches down to switch on the vibrator, his fantasy morphs into more than them simply watching him.

Artemi gasps, hiccuping out a moan at the end of his breath, and lays down so that his chest is pressed to the bed after briefly reaching back to make sure the vibrator stays inside him. He’s got it angled right up against his prostate, making him squirm, and he imagines that Patrick’s fingers are inside him instead, thick and clever and fluttering as he curls them.

Maybe he’d be leaning over Artemi when he’s sprawled across like the bed like this, getting Artemi ready to take his cock. He’d kiss the back of Artemi’s neck - Artemi breaks out in goosebumps all over just imagining it, sweat starting to bead at his hairline as he rocks back on the vibrator, letting it slide over his prostate.

“Yeah, just like that,” Patrick would say. He’d be encouraging, relentless with his fingers, caging Artemi in and pressing him to the bed.

And Jonny - Jonny would be sitting with his back to the headboard, pillows all over the floor. Artemi reaches up and grabs his blanket, burying his face in it and breathing deeply, filling his lungs with his alphas’ scents. Jonny would be sitting against the headboard and he’d have a hand in Artemi’s hair, because Artemi - Artemi would have Jonny’s dick in his mouth, yeah, _fuck,_ he’d be showing Jonny how deep he could take him and moaning around him whenever Patrick hit his prostate just right with his fingers.

Artemi’s dripping slick onto the towel at this point, and he’s grinding back onto the vibrator, pinned to the bed by his body and hitting him just right. He wishes it was bigger, thicker, wishes it was Patrick’s cock, pressing deep inside him and sliding over his prostate with every stroke inside.

Patrick’s hands would be on his hips, gripping tight and bruising just like Artemi hopes his leg bruises from tonight; Artemi would be trapped between his alphas, mouth and ass stuffed full. He moans loudly into the blanket, taking another deep breath and drowning in Jonny and Patrick’s combined scents. His thighs are starting to shake, weak from pleasure, and Artemi turns his head to the side so he can slip two fingers inside his mouth, groaning as he imagines it’s Jonny’s cock.

Jonny wouldn’t shove his head down, but his hand in Artemi’s hair wouldn’t be gentle either, gripping him tight and making sure Artemi took him deep. Artemi fits another finger between his lips, stretching his mouth around three fingers as he imagines how much more of a stretch Jonny’s cock would be.

He’s starting to get close - his hole’s clutching the vibrator tightly even as he tries to stay relaxed, and his balls are starting to ache just a little bit like they do after he’s already come once and ready to come again. Artemi draws in another deep breath, shuddering as his alphas’ scents hit him like a drug, and imagines they’d talk to him once they realized he was getting close.

It would be kind of sweet, but kind of… not.

“Shit, he’s getting close again,” Patrick would say. “I can feel it.”

Maybe he’d pat Artemi’s ass fondly as he said it, or maybe he’d spank it. Artemi whimpers around his fingers.

“Already?” Jonny would ask. He would be… proud, but amused. Artemi wouldn’t be able to fucking help it, but Jonny would just laugh and stroke over his hair, shoving his cock a little deeper. “Such a good omega.”

“Yeah, you’re so good for us, baby,” Patrick would say, keeping the same rhythm he'd had since he realized Artemi was close. “You’re gonna come, aren’t you? Can you do it on my cock just like this, or do I need to touch you?”

That’s the thing, Artemi wouldn’t need a hand then and he doesn’t now, he can feel it - he’s going to come just from the insistent buzz of the vibrator right where he’s most sensitive, from the stretch of his hole around it.

Jonny would - maybe he’d ask Artemi to look him in the eye when he comes, to feel the full force of that fierce gaze, because Jonny would want to watch him fall apart on Patrick’s cock.

Artemi shuts his eyes and moans around his fingers, turning his face into the blanket and gasping in air as he falls over the edge, come shooting out of his cock as he shakes and squeezes the vibrator, rubbing his prostate almost painfully. He whimpers when his orgasm doesn’t stop, ripping through him for so long that he bites his fingers and clutches at the sheets, muscles straining.

When it’s finally over, Artemi collapses on the bed, leaning forward so the vibrator slips from his hole. He reaches a hand back and feels around blindly until he finds the switch and turns it off, then relaxes fully into the bed, exhausted.

There are bite marks set deep into the three fingers he had in his mouth. There’s a wet spot on the cashmere blanket - not from come, thankfully, but from tears that had leaked from Artemi’s eyes during his orgasm. He feels wrung out, the same way he does after heat, fucked-stupid and never wanting to move again.

Artemi takes in another deep breath, letting his alphas’ scents wrap around him and imagining how they’d hold him afterwards. The only difference between what he’s feeling now and what he feels like post-heat is the giddy, fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach that he’s experiencing now - because, hopefully very soon, he won’t have to _imagine_ what it’s like to have Jonny and Patrick cuddle him after sex.

He’ll _know._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked this! Please leave a comment to let me know what you thought! Or message me on [tumblr](http://povverbottoms.tumblr.com). :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonny's second courting date / Artemi's birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long - the tr*de happened, but luckily I was able to get my mojo back about a week ago! I hope you guys enjoy this. The rest of the fic is just going to be various threesome scenes I've had in the back of my head for a while, so get excited for that! Thanks for being patient with me and supporting me, I really appreciate it :)

_Buzzfeed | Sports_

 

**_Three Chicago Blackhawks Players Are In A Courting War And Fans Are Freaking Out_ **

_October 29, 2015_

**_A franchise divided..._ **

 

_The Chicago Blackhawks are famous among hockey fans for two reasons: first, for winning three cups in the last seven years, and second, for their roster, which is the only roster in the NHL to include multiple alphas. Patrick Kane and Jonathan Toews have appeared to be the best of friends, never getting into fights like other alpha teammates throughout the years:_

 

There’s a gif of Brown fighting Bernier, then a couple gifs of that legendary Benn-Dillon fight. Zhenya laughs as he scrolls through them on his laptop; the fight happened when the Stars were playing in St. Louis, so most of the gifs are accompanied by a backdrop of Blues fans cackling and screaming encouragement as the two Stars players just beat the absolute shit out of each other.

“What’s so funny?” Sasha asks. He’s on speakerphone, and Zhenya’s phone makes his lisp more pronounced. “Have you gotten to the good part yet?”

“I haven’t even made it past the first paragraph,” Zhenya admits. “Got distracted by Benn fighting Dillon.”

He turns away from his phone, sitting on the coffee table, and focuses back in on the article.

 

_That is, until this year. Kane and Toews have now reportedly gotten into the nastiest kind of fight two alphas can get in - a courting war._

_At the beginning of this season, the Blackhawks added a third omega to their roster: Artemi Panarin._

 

Zhenya scrolls past several pictures of Tyusha, which seem to have been chosen to make him look especially slight and vulnerable. Even a professional athlete, apparently, isn’t immune to how the media treats omegas.

 

_The Blackhawks have coexisted with two alphas and two omegas on their roster for the past year, winning a Stanley Cup in the process, but apparently both Kane AND Toews saw Panarin and decided they had to put a ring on it._

 

Zhenya scrolls past a gif of Beyonce, happy to have understood the reference.

 

_Now both of them are competing to win Panarin’s hand, and the city of Chicago is witnessing it all:_

 

 **_Daniel M._** _@thedannmann_

**_Omg just saw Pkane and panarin on a date (?) in private room at Spiaggia???_ **

**|**

**_@thedannmann_ ** **:** **_OK def a date, there’s handfeeding happening… high school health class coming in clutch rn lmaooo_ **

 

 **_Margaret Krasinski_  ** _@MargieKMUA_

**_Everyone in Spiaggia is pretending not to notice the COURTING DATE that PATRICK FUCKING KANE is on in the private room_ **

**|**

**_@DanaaaCubsFan_ ** **:** **_omg who is he with?_ **

**|**

**_@MargieKMUA_ ** **:** **_Hes with Artemi Panarin, at this point literally the entire main room is gossiping about what this means for the blackhawks now lol!!_ **

 

_Plus, the city of Chicago and its tourists are sometimes suffering for it:_

 

 **_Franklin Stratterberg_  ** _@FranklinNYT_

**_Just tried to visit @EverestRestaurant for a review and was told it’s closed for the night. Apparently @NHLBlackhawks captain rented it out for a courting date._ **

 

 **_Jenny Mulligan_  ** _@itsjennym_

**_Scott and I were SO EXCITED to eat at @EverestRestaurant for our last night in Chicago but got a call today that they’d been bought out for the night! Beyond upset &disappointed._ **

 

“You know, as much as I love that Buzzfeed keeps their sentences short and simple, I hate that you have to deal with, like, three annoying gifs after every sentence,” Zhenya comments, as he scrolls past a gif of four people squealing and dancing.

“I’m surprised they even wrote an article about hockey at all,” says Sasha. “Not that this is exactly about hockey.”

 

_From what we see, Kane took Panarin out to dinner on October 21. Then, Toews took Panarin out to dinner just THREE DAYS later - and took him to a Chicago-famous rooftop bar later that same night._

 

 **_Johnny Rutherford_  ** _@JohnRutherford_

**_Half of Cindys balcony roped off for Toews courting date… get it dude_ **

 

There’s a picture attached to that tweet, and Zhenya opens it up just to be nosy.

“Toews didn’t rent out the whole balcony?” Zhenya asks critically, eyeing the heating lamps surrounding Toews and Tyusha, who are sitting very, very close to each other on a plush outdoor couch.

“Maybe he wanted people to see,” Sasha suggests. “He strikes me as that sort of person.”

Zhenya snorts and reads on.

 

_Then, two days later, Kane took the Michelin-starred restaurant Toews bought out and raised him an ENTIRE AQUARIUM._

 

 **_Patrick Kane_  ** _@88PKane_

**_Thanks @SheddAquarium, it was a great day!_ **

 

He’s attached a picture of a dolphin tank, and another picture of two pairs of feet clad in flippers and dangling in the water.

“Tyusha’s always said he’d love to swim with dolphins,” Zhenya admits, grudgingly giving Kane props for a good courting date. “Damn.”

“I can hear your alpha appreciation through the phone,” Sasha says. “I hope Kane thought to get some pictures of Tyusha’s face when he saw the dolphins, though, he’s so cute when he smiles.”

“He really is,” says Zhenya. “And for the record, this is one of the rare times I’m glad my omega doesn’t speak fluent Russian.”

“Is he really that territorial?” Sasha asks. “Surely you’re allowed to admit that Tyusha has a pretty face.”

“Oh, I _can_ admit it, but the questions is do I want to,” Zhenya ponders, shifting his computer on his lap so he can snuggle closer to Sid on the couch, petting through his omega’s thick, lush hair. Sid makes a happy sound and Zhenya’s heart sings.

“You’re so whipped,” Sasha says.

 

 **_Adam and Brenda_  ** _@Raising3Angels_

**_Just had to try and explain to my sobbing 5 year old why the Shedd was closed early tonight. Thanks a lot @88PKane @SheddAquarium_ **

**|**

**_@MommyProblemsChi: I was in the same boat! I understand trying2 set up a nice courting date but do u have2 buy out the whole place? Closed early so my 3yo missed otter show :(_ **

 

Zhenya can’t help but laugh.

“So, who do you think will sway him? Has Tyusha talked to you at all? I’m a little offended he hasn’t informed me personally of any of this,” says Sasha.

“Oh - I probably should’ve told you this right when you first called,” Zhenya says. “But they’re _both_ courting him.”

“Right, yes, I’m aware of this,” Sasha says. “I just sent you a whole article on this. You just read through most of it, with commentary.”

“No, like - they’re not competing,” says Zhenya, carefully leaving out the part where Kane and Toews are together. Most alphas and omegas in the league know this or at least suspect it, but betas never seem to understand dynamics enough that they would ever suspect two alphas of being in a relationship. “They want to have a three-way bond with him.”

There’s silence on Sasha’s end for a bit. Then he asks, “But if they’re not competing, why did they buy him so many flashy gifts?”

Trust Sasha to become fixated on the jewelry, Zhenya thinks as he scrolls down the article and gets treated to all the bling Kane and Toews have bought Tyusha. Buzzfeed appears to have catalogued it in chronological order, from the rose gold Rolex Kane gave Tyusha on their very first date to the corresponding rose gold mesh chains Toews gave him on that balcony. Zhenya thinks that there are definitely enough clues that this is a coordinated courting, if one’s only willing to look closely.

“Because they have a lot of money and they want to spoil him,” Zhenya says. “They’re not trying to outdo each other, they’re just being alphas. Trust me.”

“I enjoy watching the way alphas get all stupid over the object of their affection,” Sasha says. “This is like you with your Crosby all over again.”

Zhenya makes an offended sound. “I didn’t go around buying out aquariums for him.”

“Only because you couldn’t afford to,” Sasha needles, sounding gleeful even over the phone.

He’s always able to get under Zhenya’s skin like this, and the worst part is it’s completely true. “Fuck you,” Zhenya says, rubbing over Sid’s scalp to soothe himself. “He still wears the pendant I got him every fucking day. He _loves_ it.”

“Whatever you say, Zhenya,” says Sasha, infuriatingly.

Zhenya wants to argue more, but he doesn’t want to rise to the bait. Instead he slides his hand down the back of Sid’s neck, listening to his omega purr in response, and tugs Sid’s chain out from under his t-shirt so he can look at the pendants it carries. There are two - the first one is a courting gift Zhenya got for him back when they were rookies, an intricate gold heart with several diamonds set in the design, and the second one Zhenya got for him several years ago, a small gold ‘87’ covered entirely in diamonds.

Sid apparently notices what Zhenya’s doing, because his mouth quirks up and he tips his head back to grin at Zhenya. Zhenya kisses his forehead.

“Sid love my gifts,” Zhenya tells Sasha, switching over to English for Sid’s benefit. He kisses Sid’s forehead again. “Right, Sidnyushka?”

“Yes, Geno, I love your gifts,” says Sid with a smile.

“Ah, there you are, Crosby,” Sasha says, also in English. “Love is in air for Blackhawks, yes? Very exciting.”

Sid laughs. “Yeah, I guess. Buzzfeed wrote an article about it and everything, which is a big deal for hockey.”

“Yes, I just send to Zhenya,” says Sasha. “What you think about gifts Kane and Toews get? Very big, very expensive.”

Sid’s nose wrinkles a little bit. “They’re alright. A little flashy, but if that’s what Panarin’s into, then that’s great.”

Zhenya could kiss him for accidentally denying Sasha more courting gift ammunition he could use to tease Zhenya. Actually, he probably _will_ kiss Sid for that, once this call ends.

Sasha switches back to Russian when he says, “I give up, Zhenya. Maybe bigger isn’t always better.”

“No, it usually is,” Zhenya grins, poking his tongue against his teeth. “Kane and Toews are probably just overcompensating for something.”

Sasha’s laugh echoes all around the living room.

 

_October 30_

“Happy birthday,” Jonny says, smiling wide and pulling Artemi into a hug as soon as he opens the door.

Artemi hugs him back tightly, letting himself be wrapped in the scent of pine and relishing the warm press of Jonny against him. His heart flips over in his chest when Jonny tugs them into his condo, nudges the door closed with his foot, and cups Artemi’s face in his hands.

“Oh,” Artemi breathes, eyes wide. He’s completely clothed - hell, he’s even still wearing his jacket - but Jonny’s gaze makes him feel stark naked.

Jonny makes a low sound in his throat and leans down, his eyes on Artemi’s mouth before they flutter closed; Artemi tries to meet him halfway but Jonny’s hands are holding his head in place, gentle but firm, and it’s embarrassing how much he likes that.

As kisses go, it’s quick but intense, and Artemi shamelessly tries to follow Jonny’s lips when he pulls away.

“Did you have a good day?” Jonny asks with a smile. He’s still cupping Artemi’s face.

Staring into his eyes, Artemi takes a few seconds to remember the English language. “Yes, good day. I skype family, eat lunch with Vitya, and Vova call to say gift on the way.”

“That’s good,” Jonny says, stroking over Artemi’s jawline then letting go of him as he starts to lead the way into the kitchen, which smells wonderful. “I’m really glad we didn’t have a game today, I’ve been testing out side dish recipes all day.”

“Side dish?” Artemi asks.

“Oh, uh - foods you eat with the main course - vegetables, stuff like that,” Jonny explains. “You said you like scallops, and I’m pretty good with cooking those, so I needed to decide what we were gonna eat with them.”

Artemi looks around Jonny and Patrick’s large kitchen; plates and bowls of ingredients are scattered across every square inch of countertop. He feels warm all over thinking about how much care his alpha’s put into this.

He touches Jonny’s arm lightly, then slides his hand down until he’s grasped Jonny’s. “What you decide?”

Jonny leads him over to the kitchen island and motions to a bowl that’s filled with some kind of rice dish. “Well, you should try it first to let me know if you like it - it’s porcini risotto. If you like it I’m just gonna go with this, the scallops, and some spinach.”

Jonny opens the drawer in front of them and pulls out a soup spoon, scooping up some creamy risotto and then bringing the spoon to Artemi’s mouth. Face flaming, Artemi isn’t able to meet Jonny’s eyes while he licks the rice off the spoon, but he does make an appreciative noise that causes the scent of pine to flare in the kitchen.

“Very good,” Artemi says, hoping Jonny will feed him another bite.

“Great,” says Jonny, voice pitched low. “I’ll just - uh, this has to finish in the oven, and I need to get the spinach started in the pan-”

Artemi pouts, watching as the risotto is whisked away from him. “I help?”

“I’m supposed to be making this for you,” Jonny points out. He tips the bowl of risotto into a small glass baking dish and spreads it out with a spatula.

“My birthday,” Artemi counters, “and I want help. Also, eat faster this way.”

Jonny laughs as he walks over to the refrigerator. “There’s only, like, ten minutes of cooking left, and most of that’s just gonna be us waiting - you can light the candles, if you want?”

Artemi turns toward the dining table and sucks in a big breath through his nose; there are roses in a vase in the middle of the table, candlesticks on each side, and the table’s set with very fancy-looking china. His heart speeds up, kicking in his chest, and he looks back at Jonny, who’s pouring San Pellegrino into two champagne glasses.

It’s too much, there are too many little details that are all perfect, each and every one. Artemi makes a small noise, quickly crosses the kitchen and presses himself into Jonny’s side, squirming in between Jonny and the counter.

“Temi, I only gave you one job,” Jonny says, but he’s clearly teasing.

Artemi doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t trust himself to speak, just drags Jonny’s head down and fits their mouths together until there’s not an inch of space between their bodies. The countertop’s digging into his lower back, and Artemi can’t wait until Patrick can be here with them too, until all three of them can spend time alone together like this, pressed against each other and sharing lazy kisses.

Then Jonny grunts low in his throat, which is the only warning Artemi gets before he’s being lifted bodily onto the counter. He sucks in a breath and spreads his legs, inviting Jonny between them and tightening his thighs around Jonny’s broad torso once he’s pushed in as close as he can get.

“You take good care,” Artemi tells him, touching their foreheads together. He’s being completely honest, but he also knows it’s going to drive Jonny’s alpha instincts wild. “Such good care.”

Jonny groans and kisses him again, wrapping one arm around Artemi’s waist and tugging him so close he can barely breathe. Artemi wants - he feels _empty_ inside, a hollow ache that’s gotten more and more frequent over the last couple of weeks - it feels like they’ve been teasing him for _years,_ from how fucking worked up he gets now from a single kiss.

Jonny’s hair is short, but Artemi’s still able to grip onto it, whimpering and holding on tight when Jonny licks into his mouth. He wants to lay down, wants Jonny to just fuck him silly right on this counter, but Jonny still has one hand on his lower back and now he’s wrapping the other one around his shoulders, like he never wants to let Artemi go.

Dinner is fading completely from Artemi’s mind; he’s starting to get hard and he knows Jonny is too, pine and first snowfall filling the kitchen, filling Artemi’s _lungs_ until he’s suffocating in it and squirming. It was like this in the car at the end of their first date, too - Jonny hadn’t walked Artemi up to his apartment like Patrick had, but they’d made out in Jonny’s car for a long fucking time. Jonny had even adjusted his seat back so Artemi could climb into his lap.

This is better, though, because they’re indoors, safe and secure, and there’s a couch only a room away. Jonny’s half-hard now, cock thick and solid in his dress pants, and Artemi whines into his mouth, sucking on his tongue as his face flushes with heat.

Jonny’s clutching him so tightly that Artemi can’t help but let one of his hands wander down, down Jonny’s strong back, tracing the dip and then the generous curve until his hand is resting on Jonny’s ass. He wants to drag Jonny forward, push their hips together, anchor himself with Jonny’s ridiculous ass, and a quiet groan rumbles from Jonny’s throat when Artemi tentatively squeezes-

The oven timer goes off.

“Fuck,” Jonny swears, still holding Artemi close. He kisses the corner of Artemi’s mouth then leans back to look at Artemi apologetically, his eyes wide. “We - we gotta wait til Kaner’s here.”

“When Kaner here?” asks Artemi, trying not to whine. It’s his fucking birthday, and if they aren’t going to let him have his very first threesome today then he might-

“An hour, maybe? Two hours tops.”

Artemi’s stomach suddenly feels like it’s filled with butterflies. “Oh.”

Jonny smiles at whatever he sees on Artemi’s face. “C’mon, the oven’s preheated, let’s put the risotto in and start on the spinach.”

Jonny sprinkles some parmesan cheese over the dish of risotto and sticks it in the oven, then puts two pans on the stove and pours some olive oil in each. Artemi’s still sitting on the counter in a little bit of a daze, but he spots the bowl of spinach and gingerly hops off of the counter to grab it, bringing it over to Jonny at the stove.

“See, I help,” Artemi teases.

“Thanks, babe,” says Jonny. It sounds almost absent-minded at first, but then he turns and grins at Artemi. His grin is terrible, cocky and soft all at once, and Artemi feels like he’s been hit by a truck.

He turns away and opens a kitchen drawer at random. “Where… where stick that make fire? For candles.”

“Oh, the lighter?” Jonny asks. Artemi shrugs; he wasn’t aware it was called that, but that would certainly make sense. “Here you go.”

He pulls open a drawer near the stove, reaches inside, and hands Artemi a red lighter. Then he kisses Artemi lightly on the forehead before returning to the stove to dump the bowl of spinach into one of the pans.

It feels disconcertingly domestic, and Artemi’s chest aches in the best of ways for a few seconds as he makes his way over to the dining table and lights both of the tall candlesticks. Jonny sure knows how to set the mood; he and Patrick _both_ do.

Artemi just hopes they intend to follow through with the mood they’ve put him in.

xxx

Ten minutes later, the entire dinner is plated and on the table. Artemi almost wishes it had taken longer, because that way he’d have more time to kiss Jonny in various places in the kitchen, but this way he’ll have more time to kiss Jonny on the couch afterward.

As they eat, Jonny asks Artemi how he spent birthdays when he lived in Russia. Artemi has to really think about it; birthdays were fun until he was about ten years old, then they always fell during hockey season. His favorite recent birthday memories are either good meals out with teammates or games his team has won.

“I always jealous of teammates with birthdays in summer,” Artemi tells him. He’s fighting not to inhale the scallops, they’re so good. “They spend birthday how they want.”

“Yeah, I definitely get that,” Jonny says. “How would you spend it if you had a summer birthday, then?”

Artemi only has to think about it for a second. “Camping.”

Jonny’s face lights up at that. “Really?”

“You like?”

“Yeah, I love it. So much,” Jonny says. “I’d spend, like, a straight month camping in Alberta or BC if I had the time. I bet Russia’s beautiful for that too.”

“Yes, beautiful,” Artemi echoes. He doesn’t quite have the English vocabulary yet to properly describe it. “Altai my favorite. Every summer, I go. You have time in summer, yes?” Artemi asks.

“Okay, yeah, true, but Kaner doesn’t like it as much as I do. Like, not really at all.”

Artemi frowns. “So I ask Kaner to camp with me in Altai, he say no?”

Jonny laughs. “No, he’d probably say yes to you. Me, though, he’s been with me eight years at this point, so my charms don’t really work on him anymore.”

Artemi sincerely doubts that; he’s seen the way Kaner looks at Jonny, the way they both look at each other. Maybe Jonny just needs to work on being more persuasive. “You and Kaner, ever go camping together?”

“Yeah, a couple of times,” Jonny says. He laughs, a small smile stealing its way onto his face. “In our first two or three years together he was more willing to go on trips like that with me because nothing bad had happened to him in the woods yet. He’s like a bad luck magnet out there.”

“Really?” Artemi laughs.

“Seriously. The second time we went I figured he’d had enough experience by then to start putting our tent together while I went to the bathroom. I wasn’t even gone for that long, but by the time I got back…”

xxx

Dessert is a small, gluten-free chocolate cake that’s actually _pretty_ much within the team’s diet plan. Jonny and Kaner frosted it earlier in the day after looking up how to say “happy birthday” in Russian and carefully copying the cyrillic characters onto the cake’s surface with white icing.

Jonny half-expects Artemi to laugh at him, to tell him that they’d translated it wrong, but instead he just smiles when he makes his way over to the counter to look at it, tucking his face into Jonny’s shoulder. The gold pendant Jonny gave him during dinner hangs from his neck, three small diamonds from Jonny’s great-grandmere’s engagement ring set into an interlocked gold design.

“Kaner and I made it ourselves,” Jonny tells him as he cuts two pieces of cake. “You wouldn’t believe how much sugar is in every single cake that bakeries make around here.”

“Sugar taste good,” Artemi teases, accepting the plate of cake and fork that Jonny hands him. Jonny watches as he tries the cake, holding his breath; then Artemi smiles and goes back in for another bite. “I like! Very good.”

“Good,” Jonny says, relieved. “Here, I was thinking we could eat it on the couch.”

Artemi smirks at him like he sees right through Jonny’s plan for what it is - an excuse to snuggle - and he goes happily, snagging his glass of sparkling water as he walks past the table and folds himself up to sit on the couch. Jonny follows and does the same, and when he sits down on the couch close to Artemi, Artemi scoots over until their sides are pressed together.

Jonny kisses his cheek impulsively. “Could you tell Kaner and I made it before I told you?”

Artemi takes a second or two to respond, a small smile on his face, then says, “Maybe a little.”

“Okay, wow,” Jonny laughs, and then they’re both laughing. He can’t look away from Artemi’s face, from his radiant smile and his eyes that are so bright they’re practically sparkling. “What gave it away? Uh, how could you tell?”

“Russian letters different when we write,” Artemi says, waving his hand to imitate holding a pen. “Russian letters you see in books, on computer, not how we write.”

“Oh, okay. So the cake basically looks like we copied Times New Roman?” Artemi gives Jonny a blank look in response to that. Jonny has to say it differently. “It looks like we typed it, but no one writes stuff by hand that way.”

“Yes,” Artemi giggles. “Sweet, though. I have two best alphas.”

Jonny flushes, and somewhere in his ribcage there’s an impulse to beat his fists against his chest. “Not until we learn Russian, we aren’t.”

Artemi waves his hand dismissively after he finishes his last bite of cake. “Learn Russian is hard.”

“So is learning English.”

“Yes, true,” Artemi says. He sips at his water. “But I learn English, you no need learn Russian.”

Jonny puts down his own empty plate and wraps an arm around Artemi’s shoulders. “Yeah, but we wanna meet you halfway, babe.”

His mouth runs dry when Artemi sighs, pleased, and tilts his head just the tiniest bit away, baring his throat like he’s not even aware he’s doing it. _God,_ Jonny wants to - he wants to fucking worship him.

“Kaner’s gonna get here soon,” Jonny tells him, gently plucking the glass of sparkling water out of Artemi’s hand and setting it on the coffee table. “With your new courting gift.”

Artemi hums and shifts closer, eyes half-lidded. “Birthday gift?”

“It’s kind of both,” Jonny says. “You’ll probably understand why when you see it.”

Artemi turns to look Jonny full in the face, his lips twisting into an exaggerated pout. His eyes are playful, though, and he’s clearly fighting to keep his mouth from twitching up. “I have _two_ alphas, and no birthday gift?”

Jonny laughs a little before he can stop himself, then schools his face into a sympathetic expression, playing along. “Aw, they sound like terrible alphas.”

“Yes, worst,” Artemi agrees, shivering when Jonny strokes lightly over the back of his neck. He makes a small sound and exposes his throat a little more.

Jonny fights not to growl. Instead, he murmurs, “Maybe you’ll let us make it up to you, hmm, babe?”

Before Artemi can respond, Jonny noses along his throat, breathing in his delicious scent of honey and cedar. He flicks the tip of his tongue out to tease along Artemi’s skin and gets rewarded with a quiet moan. Artemi reaches for him and ends up with his legs half-on Jonny’s lap with Jonny’s arms wrapped around him, lips still attached to his neck.

“What do you think, Temi?” Jonny whispers against his skin, licking a short path and nuzzling close. “I’ll fucking - I’d get you anything you wanted, anything in the world, you know that? Pat and I both would.”

Artemi squirms and his breathing picks up. He clutches at the arm Jonny’s got wrapped around his middle. “Want _you.”_

Jonny growls and finally gives into the impulse to suck a bruise into Artemi’s throat. Instinct tells him where the venus gland is sitting underneath the thin skin, close to the surface because Artemi’s relaxed, because Artemi _wants him_ , and that’s where Jonny lays his teeth, sucking gently as he strokes over the back of Artemi’s neck.

 _“Ohh,”_ Artemi sighs, going boneless in Jonny’s arms.

Jonny’s getting hard, he can’t help it - Artemi’s so sweet, so responsive, that it makes Jonny feel feral and protective at the same time. He sucks a little harder, indulging his imagination as he wonders how it would feel if he pierced the skin here with his teeth, truly triggering the rush of bonding hormones instead of teasing both of them like he’s doing right now.

Artemi mumbles something in Russian and rubs Jonny’s biceps with shaking hands. Jonny lets go of the skin he’d been worrying with his teeth and kisses up his jaw until Artemi turns his head and presses their mouths together urgently. Jonny licks into his mouth like he’s starving for it because that’s what it fucking feels like, _shit,_ like going even minutes without kissing his omega is making him hungry.

Kaner opens the front door of the condo just as Jonny’s pants are truly starting to feel uncomfortably tight from the sweet shift in Artemi’s scent.

“Pat!” Artemi exclaims happily. He climbs onto Jonny’s lap so he can wave hello to Kaner over Jonny’s shoulder; Jonny groans quietly from the press of their bodies together.

“Happy birthday, Temi,” Pat says.

Still breathing a little heavily, Jonny listens as Pat toes his shoes off, tracks the path of his footsteps over to the carpeted living room. Somehow both of his hands have found their way onto Artemi’s ass, and he doesn’t really feel like moving them anytime soon.

Kaner grins when he looks at them properly. “Getting started without me, eh?”

“Well, we didn’t get him a separate birthday present from his courting gift today, so I’m just getting started on making it up to him,” Jonny tells him, smirking.

He smiles when Kaner sits down on the couch and leans over to give him a kiss. Artemi shifts a little on Jonny’s lap - Jonny might make a small noise - and then Kaner’s leaning up to give him a kiss too.

“Yeah, we’ve got a lot of work to do,” Pat mumbles against Artemi’s lips.

Jonny gives Artemi’s ass a squeeze and grins when he moans into Pat’s mouth. He’s fantasized about this moment for months now, but now that it’s stretched out before him the possibilities seem endless, like his brain’s working on overdrive deciding between all the things he can do next. Jonny leans forward and kisses Artemi’s throat, a different side from before now that Artemi has his head turned to kiss Kaner.

“Fuck, yeah,” Kaner moans, sliding his arm around the back of Jonny’s neck. “Temi, do you wanna - wanna see what we got you-”

Artemi shakes his head and tightens his thighs around Jonny’s, dragging Kaner closer by the front of his shirt. “Later, yes? Birthday now.”

Jonny laughs, but it comes out as a stifled groan. He feels a little unsure of himself all of a sudden, now that something this monumental is actually happening, but Pat’s helping to ground him, a solid presence at his side.

Artemi shivers a little when Jonny kisses him again, and he reaches over to tug at Pat’s shirt. Pat hums and pulls his t-shirt over his head, then gets to work tackling Jonny and Artemi’s button-downs.  

Jonny lets his hands wander a bit, groping Artemi’s ass more soundly before his fingertips creep up to play with the skin just above the waistband of Artemi’s pants. Artemi nips at his lower lip then gasps, open-mouthed, when Kaner reaches into his half-open shirt and pinches one of his nipples.

Jonny curses under his breath and starts kissing down Artemi’s jawline, then gets back to work on the bruise on his neck as he dips his fingers ever-so-slightly beneath Artemi’s waistband.

“Fuck,” Kaner hisses. Jonny glances over; Artemi’s playing with his nipple, rolling it in between his thumb and forefinger with an impish smile on his face.

“Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it, Kaner,” Jonny grins, glancing up to share a smile with Artemi.

Then Artemi’s eyelashes flutter, because Pat’s gotten his shirt all the way open and he’s rubbing over Artemi’s nipples with the pads of his thumbs.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Pat murmurs, eyes locked on Artemi’s face. Jonny can feel Artemi’s pulse jump under his lips. “That feel good?”

Artemi sighs, blinking slowly and nodding. He giggles quietly and leans over to peck Kaner on the lips before reaching for Jonny's shirt, which Kaner’s abandoned in favor of their omega. Watching Artemi moan and arch into Kaner’s touch, Jonny doesn't blame Kaner one bit.

Once Artemi’s fumbled Jonny’s shirt open with shaking hands, Jonny slips his fingertips further down, greedily exploring all the new bare skin and seeking out the heat between Artemi’s legs.

Jonny leans up from Artemi’s bruised neck to glance over at Pat, who grins back at him breathlessly and leans in to kiss him. Jonny leans into the kiss with practiced ease and smiles against Pat’s mouth when Artemi makes a quiet, strangled sound from watching them.

Kaner laughs and breaks the kiss, shifting a little closer as he works his thumbs steadily. “It’s hot, huh?”

“Very,” Artemi breathes, eyes wide. His pupils are blown. “Good together.”

“We’re all good together,” Jonny points out, kissing his nose.

Artemi giggles, then gasps when Kaner leans down to kiss his nipple. It was only a matter of time, Jonny thinks with a smirk; Kaner loves having stuff in his mouth.

Artemi’s hand flies up and clutches at Pat’s hair when he wraps his lips around the nipple and sucks gently. Jonny hums and kisses the corner of Artemi’s mouth, listening to the quiet moans that seem to get stuck in his throat, and grips his ass tighter, spreading his cheeks apart.

When Jonny’s fingers dip inside the cleft of his ass and find slickness, he and Artemi both gasp at the same time.

“What, what is it?” asks Kaner, pulling away from Artemi’s chest.

Artemi’s eyelids flutter and he whines quietly when Jonny slips his fingers deeper, entranced.

“Oh, fuck,” Jonny murmurs. He pushes two of his fingers down until they snug up against the sweet tightness of Artemi’s hole. _“Fuck.”_

Artemi slumps into Kaner’s side and slurs a string of muddled Russian into his neck, spreading his legs wider.

Jonny sees it the moment Kaner connects what's happening.

“Oh, holy - why are your pants still on?” Kaner asks Artemi, moving one of his hands up to card through the omega’s hair as he moans. “Why are any of us still wearing pants?”

“Mmm, good point,” Jonny says, stroking gently over Artemi’s hole and watching as he squirms. Jonny's been pretty good about ignoring his own dick, which is so hard it's starting to hurt, but he swears it actually fucking twitches when Artemi rolls his hips into Jonny’s hand. “Let’s go, Kaner, c’mon.”

Artemi looks between both of them, grabbing weakly at both of their belts before biting his lip and moaning again when Jonny wedges just the first knuckle of one of his fingers inside. “Nngh-”

“Today, Kaner,” says Jonny.

“Fuck off,” Kaner says lightly. He starts in on Artemi’s pants first. “Jesus Christ, you don’t even have on underwear?”

Artemi laughs and wiggles cheekily in Jonny’s lap, kissing Pat’s throat. Then he whines when Jonny pulls his fingertip out and goes back to rubbing gently over his hole.

“Shhh,” Jonny soothes him, drawing slow circles over the swollen ring of muscle. “I got you, gonna give you what you want, I promise.”

Pat kisses the top of Artemi’s head as he pushes the omega’s pants down as much as he can, exposing Jonny’s hands as well as Artemi’s cock, pink and sweet where it slaps up to rest on his stomach.

“Gorgeous,” Jonny murmurs lowly.

“And you smell - _so_ good, Temi, oh my god,” says Pat, making sure his waistband’s securely out of the way. “You getting wet for us?”

“He's already wet, babe,” Jonny tells him. He watches with a primal sense of satisfaction when Artemi’s face flames at his words. “Fucking soaking my hand, come see.”

Artemi cries out when Kaner’s hand joins Jonny’s between his ass cheeks, spreading them apart and exposing his wet hole to the cool air. Kaner gasps. _“Oh.”_

The next second both alphas exhale sharply when Artemi palms them through their pants. His touch is light but confident and Jonny can't help but rock his hips up, chasing pressure.

Artemi murmurs something in Russian and feels out the shape of Jonny’s cock through his pants, looking hungrily between both alphas. He repeats whatever he said, a little more urgently this time, and then his head falls back and he mewls when Jonny finally stops playing with his hole and sinks a finger all the way inside.

“Look at you,” Kaner breathes.

The angle isn’t the best; Jonny’s reaching around and the curl of his finger’s gonna be all wrong, plus he can see his wrist cramping pretty easily like this. So he draws his finger out and takes his hand away, and almost laughs when Artemi opens his eyes to glare at him.

“Why tease?”

“Angle’s bad, c’mon, get up so we can get your pants off properly,” Jonny urges him. “Then I won’t stop again, promise.”

 _“Davai, davai,”_ Kaner adds, patting Artemi’s ass and sending him into a fit of giggles.

Artemi shrugs his open shirt off in addition to stepping out of his pants, so that by the time he climbs back into Jonny’s lap, he’s completely naked. It’s nothing Jonny hasn’t seen before, except it’s _everything_ Jonny hasn’t seen before - the pink flush that extends all the way down to his belly, the jut of his hard cock, the sweet scent of the wetness between his legs. Jonny swears and gets a hand underneath him, toying between his thighs from this much better angle for a few moments before finally, _finally_ sinking two fingers home.

Artemi growls out a torrent of words that Jonny has no hope of understanding and drags Kaner into a kiss, whining into his mouth when Jonny curls his fingers. Jonny bites at his shoulder and thrusts in and out a few times, cock straining at his pants from the slick heat that’s surrounding him, and palms the small of Artemi’s back with his free hand, drawing him closer and giving Jonny more room to work.

“We gotta learn Russian, Tazer,” Pat says, voice hoarse, as Artemi breaks their kiss only to lean over and catch Jonny in one instead.

Jonny agrees, he’d been saying that only an hour ago, but there’s no way he’s leaving Artemi’s mouth to say that. Instead, he probes his fingers deeper, changing up the angle each time he pushes in until he finds the bump that’s firmer than the surrounding soft wetness and curls his fingers into it.

 _“Fuck,”_ Artemi groans into his mouth.

“Wow, Jonny, you must be doing a terrible job if he’s swearing in English,” Pat chirps, kissing Jonny’s cheek before working a hand between them and taking hold of Artemi’s cock.

Artemi shudders, rolling his hips and clinging to both of them, and he breaks away from Jonny’s lips to rest his head on Jonny’s right shoulder, going boneless between the two of them. Jonny holds him in place with the hand on his back and tries to hit his prostate every time he presses his fingers inside, building up a slow and deep rhythm.

“Smell so fucking good,” Kaner murmurs, nuzzling into Artemi’s hair as he pumps his cock. He slides his other hand up to grip loosely at the back of his neck, and Artemi shivers.

“More,” Artemi slurs into Jonny’s shoulder. “More, please.”

Jonny’s dick twitches in his pants. “Aw, asking so nicely, Temi,” he teases. Then a thought pops into his head, dormant from years of being exclusive with another alpha, and before Jonny can stop himself he adds, “Such a good omega.”

Artemi moans, nodding, and spreads his legs wider before Jonny has time to be mad at himself for saying shit like that. Since it obviously gets them both off, Jonny’s going to save discussing it for later, when he can tell Artemi that saying that kind of stuff in the heat of the moment doesn’t mean he actually believes omegas need to be polite or submissive.

Kaner arches an eyebrow at him, and Jonny can tell that he agrees. He gives Kaner a little nod and leans his head to the side to kiss Artemi’s shoulder before drawing his fingers out then pushing back inside with three.

“Oh - _oh,”_ Artemi breathes, legs trembling.

“Baby, you’re shaking,” Kaner says. He tightens his grip on the back of Artemi’s neck, which just makes Artemi shake harder.

Jonny picks up the pace of his hand, driving in hard enough to bounce Artemi on his fingers, and he bites his lip at the noises Artemi makes when Jonny’s motions push him through Kaner’s grip. It's as seamless as Jonny imagined it would be, him and Kaner with their omega in between them; it makes him feel fiercely protective of his mates as he watches Kaner whisper something sweet in Artemi’s ear, face unbearably tender.

Artemi’s panting out wet breaths against his shoulder, mouth open and letting out a mewl every time Jonny curls his fingers and hits his prostate just right. He sits up enough to kiss Pat for a few seconds, then Jonny - when it's Jonny’s turn he fucks his tongue into Artemi’s slack mouth, controlling and dirty as he simulates what his fingers are doing down below.

Then Kaner’s hand moves from his neck to his hair, and Artemi starts making these hitched groans into Jonny’s mouth every time he rocks his hips forward, caught between Jonny and Kaner.

“Yeah, fuck my hand with that pretty cock,” Pat murmurs. Even Jonny gets a stab of heat through his stomach at that, so he can only imagine what it does to Artemi, who babbles desperate-sounding Russian as he flutters around Jonny’s fingers.

“Baby, look at me,” Jonny urges him between kisses.

Artemi leans back and looks at him, barely able to keep his eyes open, and he whines quietly when Kaner twists his wrist and rubs his thumb over the head of his dick. His body clutches Jonny’s fingers a little tighter and Jonny grins, breathing hard. “Are you gonna come?”

 _“Da,_ yes, _yes,”_ Artemi nods immediately, digging his nails into Jonny’s shoulder.

“Shit, this is-” Pat swallows heavily. _“Jonny.”_

“I know,” Jonny says, voice low. “We’re gonna do this every goddamn day, Kaner.”

Artemi sobs at his words; Pat nods eagerly and twists his wrist again, burying his face in Artemi’s neck and laying kisses along the line of his throat.

Jonny’s heart feels like it’s in his throat as he watches Artemi’s breathing turn ragged, chest rising and falling as he squirms on Jonny’s fingers. Jonny pushes his fingers in, strokes over his prostate firmly and teases his fourth finger against the rim of Artemi’s hole.

Artemi cries out and tucks his face back into Jonny’s shoulder, shaking in between them as his hole starts to clench rhythmically. Kaner swears, hand speeding up, and the next second Jonny feels hot come splash up in between their stomachs. Jonny hums proudly and kisses Artemi’s hair as he presses his fingers as deep as they can go, feeling Artemi spasm around them.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Pat’s murmuring, jerking more come out of his cock. “Jesus.”

When it's over Artemi is left whimpering against Jonny’s skin while slick drips down Jonny’s fingers. Kaner rubs his hand between their stomachs; Jonny takes a deep breath and thinks that he’s never smelled anything better.

After a moment Artemi leans up, blinking slowly, and says, “Maybe is good you no know Russian.”

Jonny and Pat both laugh. “Why, babe?” Pat asks, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek. “Wanna know what you're moaning when you can barely even think.”

Artemi’s cheeks are the most delicious shade of pink, and he nuzzles his nose against Pat’s for a second before reaching down for his belt. “I talk about what I want. _Everything_ I want.”

By now he's mostly over the aftershocks of his orgasm, so Jonny carefully draws his fingers out. Artemi makes a small noise and leans over to kiss him, sweet, as his fingers work on the button of Kaner’s pants.

“I want this,” Artemi says, reaching into Kaner’s pants.

Kaner groans, and Jonny wonders if he should reach up and slide his wet fingers into Kaner’s mouth. The only thing stopping him is not knowing how Artemi would react, so Jonny decides to table that discussion for another time and smooths his fingers over Artemi’s ass instead.

“Fuuuck,” Kaner moans, grabbing Jonny’s thigh when Artemi pulls his thick cock out of his pants and wraps his hand around it.

“Let me show you how he likes it,” Jonny suggests, lacing his fingers through Artemi’s. He rubs his thumb over the head of Kaner’s cock, which is starting to get wet with precome.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Pat whines.

Artemi laughs and leans into Jonny’s chest, pliant and especially cuddly now that he’s come, and he watches intently as Jonny shows him the pace that drives Pat crazy, a fast downstroke followed by a slow, torturous upstroke. Pat exhales harshly and bucks his hips up into the touch; Jonny doesn’t have a free hand to hold his hips down, but maybe-

“Still,” Artemi murmurs, like he read Jonny’s mind.

Pat nods immediately and Jonny grins at Artemi, poking his tongue between his teeth. Artemi leans over to kiss him, sighing happily against his lips, and Pat makes a strangled, hurt sound.

“Jealous, Kaner?” Jonny asks, still looking at Artemi.

“No, it’s - shut up,” Pat stammers, hissing when Jonny shows Artemi how much he likes having a thumb circling the slit at the tip of his cock. “It’s even hotter than - I thought it would be.”

“Yeah, we definitely got off imagining this,” Jonny tells Artemi, who grins, pleased.

“Me too,” Artemi admits. Pat groans, sounding like he’s almost in pain, and Artemi swipes away the bead of precome that wells out of his cock as Jonny watches greedily. “Blanket you buy for me - smell like _both_ of you. I get wet.”

 _“Jesusfuckingchrist,”_ Kaner hisses out.

Jonny leans over and flicks his tongue over Kaner’s earlobe, then draws a path down to that spot on his neck that really gets to him. They’ve gotten each other off on this very couch too many times to count, but the room’s never been filled with Artemi’s tantalizing scent before - it’s hitting biological buttons Jonny didn’t even know he _had,_ so he can’t imagine how Kaner’s feeling.

Artemi whines quietly, tightening his grip, and Kaner’s head falls back onto the couch. Jonny unlaces their fingers and watches as Artemi keeps up that same rhythm, his grip starting to make slick sounds every time he strokes toward the head. Jonny gets a funny feeling in his chest watching them like that, tangled up with them on the couch, and he kisses Artemi’s cheek before working his hand underneath to cup Kaner’s balls.

The angle’s all wrong for him to do much more than hold them, squeeze a little, but one of Pat’s legs kicks out and knocks into the coffee table, spilling the glass of sparkling water. Jonny laughs and squeezes a little tighter, watching Pat’s chest heave.

“Play with his nipples again, Temi,” Jonny suggests, dipping his fingers just barely back into the cleft of Artemi’s ass.

Artemi wiggles back into the touch and grins at Jonny. “Your hands busy, yes?”

“Oh, very,” Jonny says. Artemi’s mouth drops open when Jonny rubs over his hole, still leaking slick; his lips are so pink, puffy even though he hasn’t really been biting them or anything, like Kaner tends to do.

Kaner’s biting them right now, actually, teeth sunk into his lower lip, and he barely makes a sound when Artemi rolls one of his nipples between nimble fingers, but Jonny can tell that he’s close to coming. Jonny squeezes his balls again then ghosts a finger behind them, just teasing the idea of getting something in his ass, and Kaner groans through his teeth.

_“Jonny.”_

“Right here, babe,” Jonny soothes him. “You gonna let Temi make you come? Yeah?”

Pat nods, unfocused eyes fluttering open, and he leans just a little bit off the couch as Artemi bends down to kiss him. Which is - Jesus, that’s fucking hot, and Jonny lets himself stare for a little bit. He could watch them for days, watch them do so many things-

“Are you - do you want to go again after, Temi?” he asks, wiggling the fingers stroking Artemi’s hole just to make his point. He glances down and sees that Artemi’s cock is fattening up again, but he figures it’s good to ask anyway.

Artemi nods, and Jonny kisses his throat. Kaner’s hand, which had previously been in a death grip on his thigh, moves up and squeezes Jonny’s cock. After so long without any contact, it feels fucking _good_ , and it makes Jonny remember what Kaner said the last time he jerked Jonny off.

“Kaner wants to eat you out so badly,” Jonny murmurs, close to Artemi’s ear, and Pat’s hand on his cock tightens in response, sending heat up his spine. “Do you-”

Artemi’s already nodding, breaking away from Pat’s mouth to gasp, “Yes, yes, please, I want-”

“Good,” says Jonny. He kisses Pat’s cheek. “‘Cause he’s really fucking good at it.”

Artemi bites his lip and looks between them, and his hand speeds up on Kaner’s cock. “He do… to you?”

“I’m gonna come,” Pat whispers, grip going slack on Jonny’s dick.

“Yeah, all the time, he loves it,” Jonny grins at Artemi, who licks his lips. “He loves getting on his knees, but he loves it even more if you sit on his face.”

Artemi gasps, a quiet whine escaping him, and Kaner’s hips jerk up once, twice.

“Fuck - _fuck,_ I’m coming, oh my god-”

“Fuck,” Artemi echoes him, and both he and Jonny watch as Kaner throws his head back and comes over Artemi’s hand, adding to the mess already on his stomach. Jonny sucks in a breath and teases at Artemi’s hole, keeping his eyes on Kaner and feeling Artemi’s body open up for him.

Artemi whines again. “Jonny, want you next.”  

“Mmm,” Jonny hums. He’s still looking at Pat, who’s panting harshly. “Yeah, maybe we could-”

“No fucking way,” Kaner cuts in, still shaking through the last part of his orgasm. “You wouldn’t - wouldn’t shut up about me rimming him, so _that’s_ what’s gonna happen next. You can fucking wait, Jonathan.”

Jonny laughs, insulted but mostly turned on. Artemi’s chest and hand are covered in come, and he’s staring longingly at the hard line of Jonny’s dick in his pants, but then Kaner’s sliding onto the floor and - yeah, Jonny can fucking wait.

xxx

Artemi gasps as he’s turned bodily around in Jonny’s lap, dick slapping up against his stomach as Jonny wraps an arm around his chest. He squirms a little, wet from already having come once and a little self-conscious about having Patrick’s face this close to him, and feels the thick, solid press of Jonny’s cock against his lower back.

Jonny said they were going to do this every day, but Artemi doesn’t know if he’d survive.

“God, you’re _gorgeous,”_ Patrick breathes, wrapping his hands around Artemi’s hips and shifting his body further down Jonny’s lap, spreading his legs apart.

Artemi blushes and tries to hide his face against Jonny’s chest, completely exposed. “You two are going to kill me,” he tells them in Russian, looping an arm back around Jonny’s neck.

Jonny’s hands are all over him, rubbing over his sides, playing with his nipples, spanning across his belly. Artemi arches into his touch, shivering, and looks down at Patrick with lidded eyes.

“You’re still so wet,” Patrick mumbles, eyes fixed between Artemi’s legs. “I just wanna-”

He cuts himself off and leans forward, dragging Artemi’s hips closer before licking a fat stripe up between his cheeks. Artemi makes a startled noise - he didn’t expect him to just dive in like that - and buries a hand in Patrick’s hair.

Patrick groans and repeats the motion, licking sloppily as he uses his shoulders to shove Artemi’s legs wider. It feels good - warm, intimate, a little ticklish - and Artemi moans when Jonny pinches his nipples, little sharp points of pain only adding to the sensation between his legs.

“I told you he fucking loved it,” Jonny says, lips brushing Artemi’s ear. “He’ll do it for hours if you let him.”

Artemi groans at the thought, cheeks heating up when he feels a new gush of wetness get lapped up by Patrick’s tongue, soft and insistent. Jonny rolls his nipples firmly between his fingers and Artemi swears, pleasure curling inside him so intensely it almost hurts.

At the first press of Patrick’s tongue inside, Artemi can’t take it any more - he uses the arm looped around Jonny’s neck to drag him down into a kiss, biting at his mouth and growling when Patrick flutters his tongue. He wants Jonny’s fingers again, long and clever - he wants - he wants one of them to, to fucking bend him over the couch and knot him, oh god, he wants a knot so badly he feels empty with it-

“Taste so good,” Patrick groans, pulling away with a gasp.

Artemi blushes but he can’t reply, not with Jonny kissing him like he _owns_ him, so instead he tugs on Patrick’s hair in response. One of Jonny’s hands leaves his chest and rubs all the way down his stomach, smoothing over his abs before taking hold of his cock.

 _“Oh,”_ Artemi groans, and Jonny makes a deep, satisfied noise in response.

“You two are so hot together,” says Patrick. Artemi wiggles his ass and tugs on Patrick’s hair again; Patrick laughs. “Yeah, yeah, I get it.”

Artemi feels like he’s breaking apart once he’s got Jonny working his cock _and_ Patrick’s tongue up his ass. Whichever way he shifts his body there’s some new sensation forcing pleasure through his veins, and if he stays perfectly still, it’s even _more_ devastating, because all he can do is focus on the different ways his alphas are taking him apart.

Patrick flutters his tongue against and Artemi keens, pausing the kiss so he can gasp in air. “You’re so good at this,” he tells Patrick, even though Patrick won’t understand him. “You are so _fucking_ good at this.”

Patrick hums happily and licks deeper; Artemi readjusts his grip on Patrick’s hair, threading his fingers in more tightly.

“Careful, his hairline’s already receding,” Jonny says.

Artemi doesn’t quite understand what that means, but Patrick takes one of his hands away from Artemi’s hips and uses it to flip Jonny off. Artemi can’t help but laugh weakly at that, even though it turns into a moan halfway through as Jonny thumbs underneath the head of his cock.

“Mmm, you get so wet here too,” Jonny tells him, rubbing his thumb over the slit of Artemi’s cock. Artemi shudders at the touch, too intense. “So wet for your alphas, hmm?”

Artemi moans, sparing a second to pull the English word from his brain. “Good?”

“Yeah, that’s so good, you’re so good,” says Jonny. It makes Artemi’s stomach feel like it’s filled with stardust. “You like being good?”

Artemi nods quickly, his eyes almost crossing when he looks down between his legs and sees Patrick looking reverent as he eats him out. Jonny swears and grips his cock tighter, taking his other hand off of Artemi’s nipple to rub over the bruise that’s forming on the side of his throat.

“More,” Artemi pleads, breathing faster as he feels his orgasm start to build, slowly. “Close - again.”

“Fuck, baby, you’re so easy for it,” Jonny murmurs. Artemi’s face feels like it’s on fire - this is just like he imagined it would be, except even more intense.

Patrick groans, the sound vibrating against Artemi’s hole, and grabs hold of Artemi’s ass cheeks, lifting his hips completely up off of Jonny’s lap. He shifts his thumbs close together and uses them to spread Artemi apart, licking in deep for a few seconds before both of his thumbs slip and sink slowly into Artemi’s body.

“Oh oh _oh,”_ Artemi wails, squirming uselessly between them even though he’s pinned in place. He’s starting to make a lot of noise - he’s vaguely aware of that - but he couldn’t stop if he tried, especially now that he can really feel himself climbing towards his peak.

Jonny hums and kisses the bruise that he’d been pressing his finger into before, sliding his hand down to span across Artemi’s neck. Artemi thinks he’s going to slide it further down his chest, maybe start playing with his nipples again, but then he just - _leaves it there,_ not squeezing or anything, just holding his throat as he pulls relentlessly on Artemi’s cock.

Artemi’s always liked it a little rough, and knowing that Jonny could choke him if he wanted to is what tips him over the edge, wailing. His muscles seize up but Patrick’s holding him in place, tongue still exploring inside him, so there’s no outlet for Artemi’s pleasure as it races through him, pinning him in place just like Jonny’s hand on his throat.

He comes _hard,_ adding to the mess already on his stomach, and Jonny smears it around with his hand halfway through, rubbing Patrick and Artemi’s combined scents into his skin even as Artemi shakes and shudders his way through the orgasm that Patrick keeps prolonging.

Eventually, it’s over, and it’s maybe the hardest Artemi’s ever come. He feels boneless, wrung-out, and once Patrick lowers him back down onto Jonny’s lap, Artemi realizes he probably wouldn’t be able to stand up if he tried.

He leans back to kiss Jonny one more time, then slides onto the ground to join Patrick, who - oh, his face is _covered_ in Artemi’s slick, which should be completely embarrassing, except for the fact that Patrick looks fucking thrilled about it.

“Come here,” Patrick urges him, drawing him in for a deep kiss.

Patrick’s face is warm and Artemi tastes himself on Patrick’s tongue; he’s exhausted and can’t kiss back as well as he’d like, but Patrick’s got Artemi’s face cupped between his hands and Artemi is happy to let himself be kissed like this.

Then he hears the sound of a zipper, and the two of them turn to see Jonny getting his cock out. Artemi’s mouth waters.

“Why’d you guys stop?” Jonny asks.

Patrick laughs. “It’s our magical first time together and you were just gonna jerk off at the end?”

“It really isn’t gonna take much,” Jonny admits.

“I help,” Artemi tells him, scooting forward.

Patrick cards his fingers through Artemi’s hair gently as Artemi leans forward, bracing his hands on Jonny’s thighs and licking over the tip of his cock, thick and blood-hot. Jonny sucks in a breath when Artemi’s tongue touches him, and then _both_ of them have a hand in his hair.

He preens under the attention; he knows he’s good at sucking cock, so he shows off a little with his tongue as he takes more of Jonny into his mouth. Both his alphas swear at the same time and Artemi has to fight the urge to smile.

“I - I told you it really wasn’t gonna take much,” Jonny grits out.

“Wow, Tazer.”

“Fuck off,” Jonny tells Patrick, petting through Artemi’s hair.

Artemi giggles, which makes Jonny moan. He takes him deeper, deeper, still showing off, and he hears Patrick whisper “holy shit” once Jonny’s bumping at the back of Artemi’s throat.

“Oh god, Temi,” Jonny moans, voice ragged, “I’m gonna - you have to - _fuck-”_

Artemi appreciates the warning but it doesn’t change what he was going to do, so he stays down and hums, enjoying both their hands in his hair as he feels Jonny start to come down his throat in hot spurts. The only regret he has is that Jonny’s scent won’t be all over him the way Patrick’s is, since he’s not getting any come on his skin.

Artemi closes his eyes and breathes in deeply through his nose, trying to memorize the moment and basking under the attention of both of his alphas. No matter what Jonny and Patrick bought for him, nothing’s going to top _this,_ which is the best birthday present he’s ever gotten.

xxx

Zhenya is washing his face in the bathroom, getting ready for bed, when his phone buzzes on the counter. He picks it up quickly; Sid’s already asleep, and he doesn’t want the vibrations to wake his mate.

It’s from Sasha.

**A fucking Tesla? They’re definitely overcompensating! Poor Tyusha**

Zhenya snorts, seeing that Sasha’s linked to a post on Instagram. He clicks on the link; it leads to Tyusha’s instagram account.

It’s a sleek dark silver - a gorgeous car, really, maybe Zhenya should get one for himself - and Tyusha is sitting in the driver’s seat, his face a bit pink, sporting a huge smile.

 **artemiypanarin:** gift))))))))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment to let me know what you thought! And my inbox is always open on [tumblr](http://povverbottoms.tumblr.com) :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They make it official.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry you guys had to wait a literal year for this. I just really lost inspiration after the trade, guys, I'm not gonna lie. It hit me hard. HOWEVER, there's no way I was gonna leave this fic unfinished, so finally this summer I got a little of my mojo back and this is the result. It's literally just porn. I hope you guys like it ;)
> 
> P.S. Thank you for being patient with me!

_Human Endocrine System_

 

_Jump to Section: Venus Gland_

 

 _The_ _venus gland_ _, named in 1563 after the_ _Roman_ _goddess_ _of sex and fertility , is an endocrine organ seen exclusively in omega humans that lies in the _ _carotid triangle_ _superficial to the_ _platysma_ _muscle. It is a small, elastic organ capable of expanding to three times its resting size.  The venus gland is extremely well-vascularized and has receptors for _ _estrogen_ _and_ _testosterone_ _as well as many_ _autonomic_ _nerve endings that cause the gland to swell during_ _sexual arousal_ _. It also has_ _cortisol_ _receptors and other autonomic nerve endings that, when stimulated by excessive discomfort or fear, cause the organ to return to its original size._

 

“God, the human body is so cool,” Jonny says over Patrick’s shoulder. “Like, making sure you have consent for a bond? Man.”

“It would be cooler if it had a built-in way for three people to bond at the same time,” Patrick says, scrolling. “What did thrupples do before the age of Wikipedia?”

“Did you just call us a thrupple?”

Patrick shrugs. “I dunno, Sharpy started using it as a joke but I like it. It’s efficient.”

Jonny snorts and rubs over Patrick’s shoulders as they both start to read the new paragraph.

 

 _Venus parenchymal cells are the only cells that possess an _ _enzyme_ _capable of converting estradiol to _ _jugusterol_ _, which is done rapidly when the omega is aroused. Jugusterol then_ _diffuses_ _into the_ _lumen_ _of the gland. At the same time, a sodium-fructose cotransporter (_ _NFLT1_ _) becomes activated and those molecules enter the lumen as well, causing the gland to fill with water by_ _osmosis_ _. In times of very high arousal, the gland can swell so much that it becomes externally visible [_ _Image 1_ _], at which point the overlying skin and gland itself can be pierced during the formation of a_ _mating bond_ _._

 _When the venus gland is pierced, usually by a partner’s teeth, autonomic neural feedback causes massive_ _beta-endorphin_ _release in the omega’s_ _central nervous system_ _and the subsequent experience of_ _euphoria_ _. At the same time, the gland contracts and expels its contents through the newly made opening._ _Betas_ _and omegas do not possess any jugusterol_ _receptors_ _, but_ _alpha_ _males and females have jugusterol receptors on some of their_ _taste buds_ _. Activation of these receptors causes release of the endogenous cannabinoid _ _anandamide_ _as well as beta-endorphin in the alpha’s brain, leading to what some alphas describe as a_ _“high”_ _and others describe as euphoria._

 

“We never went this in-depth in sex ed,” Patrick remarks as they continue to scroll. “It was just like, ‘oh, if you bite their venus gland when it swells up, it feels really good for both of you, but don’t do it unless you’re committed to them.’”

“Yeah, I don’t think this is the right article to be reading,” Jonny says. “Click on that mating bond link.”

 

_Mating Bond_

 

_Jump to Section: Polyamory_

 

_Subsection: Alpha-Omega-Alpha_

 

 _As there are two venus glands, one on either side of the omega’s neck, many partnerships consisting of two alphas and an omega enjoy a seamless bonding process _ _if both alphas are willing to cooperate_ _. Jugusterol production and beta-endorphin release are upregulated by the_ _mechanoreceptor_ _stimulation provided by an alpha’s_ _bulbus glandis_ _._

 

“What the fuck is that?”

“I think it’s a fancy word for knot,” Jonny says.

“Jesus, who wrote this?” Patrick complains. “Someone with two PhDs and no day job?”

 

 _After this discovery, sex psychologist_ _Lisa Masterson_ _was able to develop a_ _maneuver_ _that provided satisfaction for all three parties simultaneously. Alpha-omega-alpha matings using the Masterson maneuver (more commonly known as the “_ _knot/bite, bite/knot_ _” or “_ _KBBK maneuver_ _”) reported greater levels of intimacy and happiness with the partnership than those using other methods, such as the_ _sequential method_ _._

 

Jonny leans his upper body over Patrick’s, reaching for the keyboard and googling ‘KBBK maneuver.’ Patrick approves - it’s probably for the best that they read more about it on a mommy blog or something similarly suited to his and Jonny’s speed.

It’s not their fault that they have to close the laptop five minutes later and jerk each other off on their bed. Half of the links they found were straight-up porn, and the other half, well… even though they were just instructional websites, the thought of him and Jonny doing _that_ with their eager, sweet, gorgeous omega is just too much to bear.

xxx

_December 22_

Artemi’s still holding a couple of decorative pillows, working on restoring the living room to what it normally looks like, when Jonny comes up behind him and starts to kiss his neck. Artemi squirms, warmth spreading through him as his heart kicks up three notches and his stomach wells up with nerves.

“More work to do,” he points out.

After all, it was Jonny’s idea to do this over their holiday break - _and_ to fly his and Patrick’s parents into town to spend the holidays with them and meet Artemi for the first time, all at once. Jonny and Patrick’s condo isn’t exactly in tip-top shape to host guests; maid services can keep a basic level of cleanliness, but there’s lots of things that need to be organized and arranged before everyone gets here tomorrow night.

There’s also a bond to create, _tonight,_ one that Artemi’s waited _months_ for. So why is he suddenly so nervous?

“It can wait, sweetheart,” Jonny murmurs, pulling the pillows out of Artemi’s hands and throwing them onto the nearest couch. _“Maman’s_ not gonna care if the right pillows aren’t on the right couches. She just wants to meet my omega.”

Artemi whines quietly, feeling soothed and even more anxious at the same time. He tilts his head to the side, seeking comfort, and whines again at the dull press of Jonny’s teeth against his skin. He’s going to be _Jonny’s omega_. Jonny and Patrick’s.

It’s been agonizing waiting for the break to do this - not that getting eaten out and coming on their fingers isn’t amazing, but almost two months of having sex with both of them without getting properly fucked by either of them have left Artemi wanting so, _so_ much. Jonny and Patrick had been steadfast in their decision - they didn’t trust themselves to fuck Artemi without biting and claiming him as soon as he was on one of their knots.

Now that it’s winter break, though, they finally have time to properly mate, and nothing’s left to hold Jonny or Patrick back. Artemi’s nearly vibrating with anticipation; he turns around in Jonny’s arms and kisses him, pushing up on his toes so enthusiastically that Jonny almost loses his balance.

Jonny hums, smiling against his mouth, and deepens the kiss as he reaches down to grope at Artemi’s ass, squeezing each cheek with his big hands. Artemi has been hovering on the edge of arousal all day just from the anticipation, so he’s not surprised at all that just a few seconds of Jonny’s hands all over him is enough to start getting him wet.

“I feel the same way,” he hears Patrick say.

Artemi grins and leans back, keeping himself pressed close to Jonny as he smiles over at his other alpha, who’s just walked into the room. Patrick runs a hand over each of them once he’s close enough, like it’s unbearable to go too long without touching either of them, and Artemi pulls him into a kiss as Jonny’s hands on his ass coax him into rolling his hips. He moans into Patrick’s mouth at the feeling.

“Everything’s ready, right?” Jonny asks.

Patrick puts a hand on the back of Artemi’s neck and keeps him close when he pulls away to answer. “Yeah, I even put rose petals and shit everywhere.”

Jonny chuckles and leans down to nip at the side of Artemi’s throat, right over his venus gland. He sucks a soft, lazy bruise into the skin there as Patrick fits his mouth against Artemi’s again, licking inside. It makes something in Artemi melt and his legs get a little wobbly, biological buttons getting pushed just like they always are every time he feels so taken care of.

“I love you,” Artemi murmurs against Patrick’s lips. He brings a hand up to run it through Jonny’s hair, and feels the vibration of the happy sound Jonny makes in response. “Both of you.”

Patrick’s eyes crinkle at the corners as Jonny smiles against Artemi’s throat, humming, “Mmm. Love you too, baby.”

“So much,” Patrick adds, then kisses him again, just a brief little thing. “Come on, let’s go. I don’t know how long it takes before rose petals go bad.”

“Oh my god, I thought you were kidding about the rose petals,” Jonny says, taking Artemi’s hand.

Artemi giggles, holding hands with both of them as they make their way to the bedroom.

“Nope,” Patrick beams. “It’s extra credit, you know? All part of my plan to get Temi to like me better.”

“God, shut up,” Jonny grumbles. There’s no heat behind it, and Artemi giggles again, feeling like he’s practically floating over the threshold with how happy and excited he is.

The bedroom is lit lowly, dimmer switch turned most of the way down and a few candles burning on each beside table. The curtains that sometimes cover the massive windows are flung open to expose the sparkling wonder of Chicago at night, a few flakes of snow swirling around in the blackness highlighted every time they pass in front of the lit windows in the skyscrapers around them; the petals scattered on the bedspread smell fresh, like Patrick plucked flowers off a rose bush five minutes ago.

“So perfect,” Artemi breathes, breath edging into a moan as Patrick comes up behind him and wraps his arms around him, kissing below his hairline. _“Best_ alphas.”

“Hopefully this is gonna make all that waiting worth it,” Jonny says, stepping in front of him. His shirt’s already off, tan skin practically glowing in the low light, and he slips his hands underneath the hem of Artemi’s sweater. “Help me out, Kaner.”

“Yeah.” Patrick takes his hands off of Artemi’s stomach and grabs the back of his sweater instead, both of them working in tandem to pull it off of him.

Over the past couple of months Artemi’s gotten used to having two lovers, but that doesn’t mean that two alphas simultaneously paying rapt attention to him isn’t still completely overwhelming every time it happens. He flushes and pulls off his own undershirt, trying to retain some semblance of control, as Patrick’s fingers work at the button of his jeans, brushing teasingly over his dick as he tugs the zipper down. Patrick can’t seem to keep his hands off Artemi, who knows the feeling well. He desperately wants to be close to both of them.

Once all their clothes are off, Jonny pulls Artemi toward the bed, his grip eager. Artemi is already starting to breathe more heavily, cock perking up; as Patrick crawls onto the bed, settling onto his back and patting the space between his legs in invitation, Artemi feels a hollow pang of longing where he’s starting to slick up.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” Patrick grins.

Artemi crawls on top of him and kisses him soundly, basking in both of their rich scents as the room starts to feel hotter. Patrick pushes his tongue into his mouth and Artemi sucks on it, caresses it with his own, and squirms on top of him as Patrick smooths his hands up and down Artemi’s back, possessive.

He moans and spreads his legs when he feels one of Jonny’s hands palm his ass briefly before slipping between his cheeks, two fingers pressing against his hole. He’s already slick enough that Jonny can rub it into his skin, spread it around his entrance, and Artemi whines and clings to Patrick when Jonny makes a low sound and pushes two of his fingers inside up to the knuckle.

“Jesus,” Jonny breathes.

Artemi wiggles a little bit, feeling impatient, and Patrick laughs against his mouth.

“You just wanna get fucked so bad, don’t you?”

Artemi gasps and nods, eager. “Please. Wait so long.”

He feels lips at the back of his neck and a shiver rolls down his spine at the sweet kisses Jonny lays on his skin. “I know, baby. Just wanna make sure it doesn’t hurt.”

Before Artemi can respond, probably with something along the lines of _Your dick’s not_ that _big_ in Russian, Jonny twists his fingers just right and pushes in a third, and the only sound he can make is a choked-off grunt.

“You’re not gonna hurt him, Tazer, your dick’s not _that_ big,” Patrick says. Artemi would laugh if he wasn’t busy drooling on Patrick’s shoulder. “C’mon, we’re just being mean at this point.”

“Fuck off, Kaner, what happened to foreplay?” Jonny asks as he pulls his fingers out and urges Artemi to turn over with a hand on his hip. “Where’s the romance?”

Every one of Artemi’s muscles feels shaky as he turns onto his back and lets Patrick hug him from behind, the alpha spread out underneath him so he can stay close while Jonny fucks Artemi. Patrick’s chest is pressed to Artemi’s back and it’s - so hot, everything’s so _hot._ Both men are bickering with each other gently, hands roaming all over Artemi like they’re not even aware they’re doing it, and Artemi shudders at how off-balance he feels; it’s so intense he might think he was going into heat if it weren’t the completely wrong time of year.

“You still with us, Temi?” Jonny asks, pushing Artemi’s hair back from his face. Artemi licks his lips, mouth suddenly dry, and nods, staring up at his alpha with wide eyes. Jonny groans and leans down to kiss him, lining up over him so the fat head of his cock slips through the wetness between Artemi’s legs, and Artemi _keens_ into his mouth.

“Holy shit,” Patrick murmurs, hands wandering up his sides.

Holy shit is right. Artemi’s not some blushing virgin, far from it, yet here his body is acting like he’s never had a dick inside him before. He paws at Jonny’s arms, trying to pull him down on top of him so that Artemi will be completely surrounded by his alphas, but Jonny resists with a smile and a nip to Artemi’s bottom lip.

“I gotta see what I’m doing,” Jonny grins. He kisses Artemi’s forehead before glancing in between their bodies and bracing all his weight on one hand so he can use the other to grip his dick. Patrick kisses up the side of his throat, lingering over his venus gland.

Artemi’s chest heaves and he spreads his legs as wide as he possibly can. _“Please.”_

“Yeah, baby,” Jonny mutters, holding himself still before pushing his hips forward.

All of the air gets punched from Artemi’s lungs as Jonny works the head of his cock inside, so much thicker than his fingers. He makes a high, trilling sort of noise when Jonny doesn’t stop, his pace slow but relentless, and it’s only silenced when Patrick groans and turns Artemi’s head towards him, catching him in a deep kiss.

Jonny loses his restraint about halfway through, abandoning his glacial pace and sinking home in one smooth slide until his hips are flush with Artemi’s ass. Artemi gasps into Patrick’s mouth; Jonny feels _huge_ like this, like it’s a miracle Artemi’s body has made space for him, so thick Artemi keeps fluttering around him without meaning to, making both of them groan.

“Sweetheart,” Jonny rasps, leaning down to kiss the angle of Artemi’s jaw.

Seconds later he gently pries Artemi’s mouth away and replaces Patrick’s lips with his own, filthy and claiming. Patrick makes a grumpy noise and squeezes Artemi’s hips, curious hands wandering inward from either side until he’s got both between Artemi’s legs. Artemi squirms and digs his nails into Jonny’s biceps when Patrick takes hold of his cock, desperately hard, and rubs little teasing circles over the underside.

 _“Oh,”_ Artemi moans, keening again when Jonny just pushes his tongue into Artemi’s mouth and licks deep. “Mmf-”

If he thought just having Jonny inside him was overwhelming, it’s nothing compared to how it feels when Jonny finally pulls his hips back and shoves forward, starting to fuck him in earnest. Bolts of pleasure shoot through him and Artemi throws his head back onto Patrick’s shoulder, breaking the kiss with Jonny so he can have an outlet for how he’s feeling. He doesn’t remember ever having made that high, trilling noise before today, but now he can’t stop and it’s making Patrick’s cock twitch against the small of his back.

“Oh my god, look at you,” Patrick whispers.

“Pleasepleaseplease, it’s too much, I need to come,” Artemi babbles, English completely deserting him as he prays his mates will understand what he’s trying to say.

Jonny grunts. _“Fuck,_ you feel good.”

Artemi whines and reaches between his legs, his hand joining Patrick’s on his cock - he can’t take the teasing anymore, he _can’t,_ Jonny’s dick is making him lose his mind and he feels like he _has_ to come soon or else he’s going to die.

Artemi arches his back and cries out when the head of Jonny’s cock bumps against his prostate.

“There we go,” Patrick chuckles. “Right there, Taze.”

“Yeah, I’m not fucking stupid, Kaner,” Jonny snaps, keeping the angle when he thrusts home again.

It’s so unexpectedly comforting to hear them banter like this even during something as monumental as their first mating that Artemi can’t help but giggle, hiccuping out little laughs the next few times Jonny bottoms out. Patrick laughs too, nuzzling Artemi’s neck as he squeezes the hand he’s got wrapped around Artemi’s cock, making him feel warm all over.

Artemi’s being so vocal he’s almost embarrassed, shutting his eyes tightly as Jonny picks up the pace and drags his cockhead back and forth over Artemi’s prostate every time he thrusts his hips. Patrick finally starts to move his hand, warm pressure circling Artemi’s dick as he drags his fist up and down, and the one-two punch of both his alphas’ movements stokes a fire in Artemi’s belly, so sudden and intense it’s almost painful.

He tries to tell them, tries to say _anything,_ but all he can do is gasp as he’s sent hurtling over the edge. He’d be doubling over if he wasn’t pinned tight between Jonny and Patrick, biting his lip and groaning as he spills over Patrick’s fist and clutches around Jonny’s cock as his alpha fucks him through his orgasm.

Jonny really doesn’t break his rhythm in the slightest - in fact, Artemi would think he wasn’t affected at all save for the harsh breath Jonny hisses out through his teeth.

“Oh, baby,” Patrick purrs, voice smug next to Artemi’s ear. “You needed that so bad, huh?”

Artemi squirms and turns to hide his face against Patrick’s throat.

“Temi,” Jonny murmurs, slowing down so he can roll his hips more. Artemi keens open-mouthed into Patrick’s skin. “Temi, you okay?”

“Da, yes,” Artemi says quickly. Fuck, his voice is already a little hoarse.

There’s a bead of sweat dripping down Jonny’s neck. Artemi wants to lick it, mesmerized as Jonny opens his mouth again. “You good to keep going?”

Artemi nods so fast he feels like a bobblehead, still speared on Jonny’s cock but not quite satisfied yet, not when he knows what’s coming next. His neck is throbbing, venus gland swelling up like it does when he gets really, really turned on, body crying out for a bite. He’s taken a knot before, but never - no one’s ever-

“Please, I need,” Artemi mumbles, voice cracking when Jonny bottoms out inside him while he’s trying to get the words out.

“Mmm,” Patrick hums, turning his face so he can nuzzle into the crook of Artemi’s shoulder, dragging his mouth up and over to the sensitive, swollen gland in his throat. Even simple pressure against it feels like a tiny electric shock and Artemi grunts, digging his nails into Jonny’s arms. “What do you need, babe?”

“I need - I need,” Artemi tries again.

Patrick’s purring is loud, Artemi can feel it in his throat and next to his ear, but it’s not as loud as the harsh slap of Jonny’s hipbones every time he fucks in deep, slick leaking out and adding to the filthy sounds. Both of them hold him tight when he tries to curl in on himself, face flaming, and Artemi whimpers when he realizes there’s nowhere he can hide.

“You need your alphas?” Jonny sounds smug; the worst part is, it’s totally doing it for Artemi. “I don’t know how I’m gonna fit my knot in here, you’re so tight.”

Artemi gasps and looks up, locking eyes with Jonny as he feels himself get even wetter. Jonny bites his lip, then frees up one of his hands and - wraps it around Artemi’s throat.

 _Fuck._ This is definitely a _thing_ for Jonny - he’s done it a lot over the past couple months and Artemi fucking loves it - but he’s never done it when he’s balls-deep and it’s... a _lot._ Artemi can’t look away from his intense gaze, feels like he’s melting under the heat in Jonny’s eyes as he moans and tries to arch his back.

“Jesus,” Patrick mumbles, nuzzling Artemi’s neck underneath Jonny’s thumb, where his venus gland sits swollen. His hand has stayed loose around Artemi’s dick since he came, but now Patrick tightens up his grip and starts to stroke him again.

He - he _has_ to know how oversensitive Artemi is, and he’s doing it anyway. Artemi is completely embarrassed by how much he likes that, moaning outright as he blinks up at Jonny.

“You are so sweet,” Jonny bites out, eyes locked on his. He squeezes his hand a little tighter, just barely threatening Artemi’s air supply. Artemi shivers, some baser part of him encouraging him to bare his neck and submit.

“Please,” Artemi says again. He’s _so full._ “Jonny-”

“What do you want?” Jonny asks with a smirk. Artemi opens his mouth, trying his best to reply, but before he can get anything out, Patrick slips two fingers between his lips. Artemi moans; his first instinct is to suck on them, and he watches as Jonny’s eyes darken. _“Fuck.”_

When Patrick rubs his thumb over the sensitive slit of Artemi’s dick, Artemi’s whole body jolts and he clenches around Jonny’s cock. All three of them groan, and that’s when Artemi feels it - the base of the thick length inside him is starting to swell up.

He makes an urgent noise and Patrick pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a pleased chuckle. Jonny looks like he wants to eat Artemi alive.

“Gonna knot soon, babe?” Patrick asks, hand speeding up on Artemi’s cock.

“Nnh - _yes,”_ Jonny groans. His voice breaks at the end, and the knot starts to catch on Artemi’s rim every time he works it in and out. A second later he takes his hand away from Artemi’s throat, planting both arms firmly on the bed so he can get more leverage.

“Patrick,” Artemi gasps weakly. “Bite - I need.”

In the middle of all of this, Patrick has the audacity to laugh. “I know, sweetheart. Just let us take care of you.”

Artemi shudders, his brain going fuzzy; he knows he’s going to come again as soon as Jonny’s knot is inside of him, can feel it building up. “Love you.”

Both his alphas echo it at the same time, adoring.

Then Patrick digs his teeth in, probably trying to find the optimal spot to bite, but Artemi’s already so overstimulated that he fucking loses it and comes before Jonny’s even got his knot inside.

 _“Shit,”_ he slurs, abandoning English as his voice breaks. “Fucking - do it, put it in me-”

“Oh, fuck.” Jonny sucks a breath in through his teeth; through his haze of pleasure Artemi can feel himself clenching rhythmically and trying to draw Jonny’s knot inside, and he can only imagine how it feels for his alpha. “Kaner - _Patrick -_ you have to-”

Patrick moans against Artemi’s throat, shifts his head a little in what might be a nod as he lets go of Artemi’s cock and grabs his hips to hold him in place.

Artemi’s alphas have always been able to communicate wordlessly, perfectly synchronized, so it shouldn’t surprise him when Patrick bites down on Artemi’s venus gland and just barely pierces the thin skin with his sharp alpha canines at the same time that Jonny shoves his expanding knot into Artemi’s body as it finally plumps up to its full size, locking them together.

It _shouldn’t_ surprise him, but it _does,_ because it feels so fucking euphoric that Artemi tumbles off the heels of one orgasm headlong into another, nearly screaming as his brain short-circuits. He clutches at Patrick’s hair with one hand, keeping him in place against his neck as waves of impossible pleasure radiate from where Patrick’s bitten him and where Jonny’s stuffed inside him.

“Oh god, oh my god,” Jonny breathes. He’s still rutting forward with tiny rolls of his hips, eyes half-lidded, sweaty and beautiful and _Artemi’s alpha._

The knot inside him feels so good, feels huge, almost like - like it’s weighing him down, and that’s such an absurd thought that Artemi has to giggle at it, still gasping for breath as he comes down from his peak. He still feels so blissful that he almost feels high, in a way; he’d read that this could happen, but he didn’t expect it to be this intense.

Patrick laps at his throat, over the spot he’d bitten him, and Artemi squirms happily and tilts his head to the side, exposing more of his neck to his other alpha. He giggles again, wiggling his hips and grinning when it tugs on Jonny’s knot and makes him hiss.

“Fuck, baby, I love you so much,” Patrick mumbles, stroking over his hips. He laughs quietly and kisses Artemi’s throat. “I’m talking to both of you, hah. All-purpose pet name.”

“Hmm?” Jonny hums.

“I’m just being efficient,” Patrick says with a smile.

It’s stupid and it makes Artemi dissolve into giggles, Patrick joining him a second later. Jonny just looks at them fondly and leans down to give Artemi a kiss, careful not to jostle his knot too much. Artemi moans quietly as Jonny’s tongue strokes over his own, deep and claiming.

“You guys are so fuckin’ hot,” Patrick slurs. “I wanna take pics and put ‘em on instagram.”

Jonny kisses the corner of Artemi’s mouth. “You don’t even _have_ an instagram.” Artemi giggles again and Jonny taps the side of his neck near where Patrick’s tongue is still laving over his skin. “Geez, what’s in this stuff?”

“Feels like… drunk? Little bit?” Artemi tries.

Patrick hums. “Mmm, for me it just feels like I… I dunno, smoked a couple really strong joints or something.” He squeezes Artemi’s hips again and Artemi moans quietly, shivering around Jonny’s knot. “Feels so good. You wanna try, Taze?”

“Nah, I’ll wait til the next round. Gotta stick to the plan.”

Artemi pouts a little bit - his brain is fuzzy and he feels incredible and he wants nothing more than to share this with his alphas, _both_ his alphas.

“I’ll get there, Temi, don’t worry,” Jonny murmurs, plants another kiss on Artemi’s slack mouth. “Gonna bite the other side, make you feel good all over again.”

 _God,_ Artemi can’t even _imagine._ Patrick laps at his neck again and Artemi lets his head loll back onto his alpha’s shoulder, then makes a pleased noise when Jonny follows his mouth down and keeps kissing him.

xxx

Patrick’s never felt anything like this, even back in his drinking days. The high he’s experiencing - it’s more than physical, it’s _mental,_ like he’s so happy he could burst. He cuddles Artemi closer, _his fucking omega,_ and laps over the place he’s bitten him, chasing more of the sweet flavor spilling from his venus gland.

His dick is still hard; it’s been like that since all of them got their clothes off what feels like hours ago, but even as it twitches and smears precome on Artemi’s back, Patrick doesn’t feel any sense of urgency. He just feels like time is melting, oozing around them and wrapping them up tightly so that all they know is each other.

Patrick becomes vaguely aware of Artemi moving on top of him after an indeterminate amount of time has passed. His omega doesn’t seem to share his lack of urgency.

“Want again,” Artemi mumbles, squirming around and trying to rock on Jonny’s knot.

Jonny lifts his head off Artemi’s chest, where he’s been lounging in the afterglow, and bites his lip when Artemi shifts his hips impatiently. “Moving like that isn’t gonna make me go down any faster.”

Patrick laughs, moving up to bite at the shell of Artemi’s ear; the sweet whine he gets in response makes something dark curl in his chest, a fierce need to drag more of those sounds out of him.

“Shh, Temi, relax,” he murmurs. “Be good for us.”

Artemi whines _louder._

“Okay, I’ll - fuck, I’m high,” Patrick continues, losing his train of thought for a few seconds. “I’ll grab us some water while we have time, yeah? That way… that way you can work your shit out, Jonny.”

“Work my - oh my god, Kaner,” Jonny splutters, holding Artemi close as Patrick slips out from under them. _“You_ try knotting your new mate for the first time and getting it to go down in ten minutes.”

Patrick stumbles a little once he’s standing upright, his head spinning from pheromones, or hormones, or whatever the fuck Artemi’s body has drugged him with. Ten minutes? It’s only been _ten minutes_ since Patrick bit him? It feels like it’s been an hour at least.

It takes a little while for Patrick to procure three glasses of water from the kitchen, given the fact that his vision is hazy and he’s walking around like a baby animal that’s just learned how to use its legs. He giggles to himself, though, because part of that reason is that he’s got an aching boner between his legs, which definitely doesn’t apply to baby animals.

Patrick keeps laughing as he waddles back upstairs, gripping all three glasses precariously. His heart starts to beat faster as he gets closer to the bedroom, relief coursing through him after only a short time spent away from his mates.

Jonny and Artemi haven’t moved since he left; Jonny’s spread out on top of their omega, pressing him into the bed and kissing him deeply. Patrick takes a deep breath, purring happily at their combined scents in the air, and sets down two of the glasses on the bedside table before promptly draining the one he has left in his hand.

“Thanks, babe,” Jonny mumbles, reaching over for one of the glasses.

Seeing an opportunity, Patrick grabs the remaining one and sits down on the bed, shifting until he’s close to Artemi’s face.

“Best alpha,” Artemi murmurs, dopey smile on his face. He reaches up and Patrick helps him sit up a little, both of them tipping the glass of water toward his mouth-

Then Artemi bursts into laughter when they miss his mouth entirely and part of the glass sloshes onto his chest. Patrick breaks down a second later, following him with helpless giggles.

“Oh my god, you guys are hopeless,” Jonny says, reaching over to set his empty glass down. “Here, let me - then you can sit up-”

With little rolls of his hips, he gently works his knot free, apparently gone down enough that it isn’t hurting either of them. Artemi makes a sad little noise when Jonny pulls out, and Patrick feels a sticky wave of heat break over his senses when Jonny hums quietly and reaches down to feel the come that’s leaking out, fingers playing with Artemi’s hole.

When Artemi bites his lip and reaches to join Jonny’s fingers, slipping a few just inside - maybe to try to keep everything in - Patrick hisses. “Slut.”

Artemi grins and sticks his tongue out at Patrick even as his cheeks flame; he pulls his fingers out and makes quick work of downing the rest of his water, sets the glass down, then reaches up for Patrick with open arms. He mumbles something in Russian, then adds, “Please?”

“Yeah, baby.” The high has shifted, somewhat - Patrick feels less disoriented now, more in control of his own body, but still fucking euphoric. Mostly he just feels horny, probably because he’s been hard for like an _hour._

Patrick spares a second to give Jonny a kiss - okay, more than a second, because he _loves_ Jonny and wants him to feel as good as Patrick does right now.

“Mmm, tastes good,” Jonny says as they pull away.

“Yeah, just imagine when you get - a whole mouthful of it,” Patrick slurs, kissing Jonny’s forehead and then turning his attention back to his omega. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

The two of them roll around a bit, kissing fiercely as Patrick tries to find an outlet for how good he feels, and he knows Artemi must be going through the same thing. Patrick ends up on his back with Artemi sitting on his lap, grinning triumphantly, and the sight is so beautiful that Patrick feels like he won the goddamn lottery. Artemi is _so_ wet between his legs; Patrick can feel it dripping over his cock, which twitches, aching to be inside him.

“Want it so bad, huh, Temi?” Patrick grins, grabbing Artemi’s hips.

Artemi’s mouth quirks and he reaches down to palm Patrick’s dick. “You too.”

Patrick swallows hard and nods, mouth suddenly dry. His brain feels slow again - he can’t decide what he wants to do first - but luckily Jonny makes that decision for him by settling behind Artemi, pulling the omega back against his chest with one hand and reaching down to hold Patrick’s cock steady with the other.

Then - _holy shit -_ Artemi trills happily and starts to sink down, throwing his head back to rest on Jonny’s shoulder as he takes the head of Patrick’s cock inside.

“Oh, fuck me,” Patrick groans. “Oh my god.”

Artemi takes more, and more, Jonny helping him and whispering low, sweet words in his ear, until finally Artemi is sitting on Patrick’s lap, just fucking - impaled on his dick. _Fuck._

“Holy fucking shit,” Patrick breathes. “Was that what you wanted, baby?”

Artemi nods, whimpering; his eyes are still closed and his face has smoothed out into an expression of bliss. Patrick licks his lips, rubbing over Artemi’s hips and waiting to see if he wants to take the lead.

Jonny whispers something else, his lips curled into a smirk and his eyes locked on Patrick’s, and then - then Artemi rises up on shaky legs, halfway up Patrick’s cock before he sits down again hard. Patrick and his omega both moan at the same time, overwhelmed physically _and_ mentally, and meanwhile Jonny still has that smug expression on his face, reaching up to toy with Artemi’s nipples and stoking the fire in Patrick’s stomach.

Artemi does it again, and again, until he’s fucking himself on Patrick’s cock, breathy little _ah ah ah_ noises punched out of his chest every time he sits down. It’s never felt this intense before, slick grip around him almost suffocatingly good, and Artemi gives it to him until Patrick’s brain-to-mouth filter is completely shot.

“Yeah, baby, get it,” he croons, “get that fuckin’ dick, it’s all yours, baby-”

“Jesus Christ, Kaner,” Jonny swears.

“Can’t help it - he’s so pretty, Jonny, and - _fuck -_ he’s _ours.”_

Artemi groans, taking hold of himself - no, he’s just gripping the base of his cock so it won’t bounce around as he starts to ride harder. He blinks his eyes open and groans again when he sees Patrick staring at him.

“You like it when I talk like that?” Patrick asks. Artemi nods, moaning. “Yeah, know you do. You love hearing how pretty you are when you’re full of cock.”

Artemi _sobs_ and trembles around him. _“Patrick.”_

“Oh, am I gonna make you come?” Patrick grins, delight coursing through him. “C’mon, baby, give it up for us, show us how good we make you feel-”

Jonny rumbles out a groan and reaches for Artemi’s dick, but before he’s even closed his hand around it Artemi’s shooting off, coming untouched on Patrick’s cock. It feels _sofuckinggood,_ Artemi’s body squeezing around him, massaging him, and Patrick gasps as he feels the fire in his belly start to grow, spreading to the base of his cock.

“You’re so fucking hot - coming when I tell you to, Jesus _Christ,_ Temi.”

“Such a good omega,” Jonny adds, his eyes dark, and Artemi wails, reaching back to tug on Jonny’s short hair. Jonny grins at Patrick over Artemi’s shoulder and Patrick smirks back, feeling on top of the fucking world.

There’s only so much more Patrick’s body can take after having been turned on for so long, and it’s almost too soon that he feels his knot starting to plump up, catching on the rim of Artemi’s hole. He groans and grips Artemi’s hips tighter, starting to rock him back and forth on his cock so he can stay deep; Artemi slurs something in Russian and Patrick watches greedily as his head falls forward, whole body shaking.

“Are you gonna come again when I knot you?” Patrick coos, head spinning as he watches Artemi fall apart on his dick. He may or may not be slurring his words, but Artemi seems to understand what he’s saying. “Tell me.”

“I - I don’t know-” Artemi stammers, knuckles going white in Jonny’s hair.

Jonny hums and shifts one of his hands from Artemi’s nipple down to his cock, still hard even after coming - Jesus, Patrick doesn’t even _know_ how many times. He and Jonny are treating their omega _right._

Jonny still has that fucking smirk on his face. “You can, Temi, right? You can give us one more.”

It feels like there isn’t any air left in the room, just the combined scents of Patrick’s mates. God, when he knots Jonny’s gonna _bite_ Artemi and then he’ll have _both_ their marks, one on each side of his neck, on display for everyone to see, so everyone can know he’s _theirs-_

Patrick feels his knot expanding to its full size, the way it does right before he’s about to come, and he throws his head back for a second and groans, making sure Artemi’s situated snugly on top of him. He manages to mumble Jonny’s name, a warning, and then he’s coming, _finally,_ pleasure rushing over him so intensely he has to close his eyes.

Of course, he opens them again once he hears Jonny grunt at the same time Artemi cries out and goes _tight_ around his knot. Seeing Jonny bite over his swollen gland is so hot that Patrick’s surprised he doesn’t pass out, especially when Artemi shudders again and paints Patrick’s stomach, Jonny’s hand working mercilessly.

“Oh my god,” Patrick groans, shivering as his cock twitches, knot getting - _milked,_ Jesus, there’s no other way to describe it.

He kind of maybe blacks out for a little bit. Maybe.

When he comes too, Jonny is staring at him with a goofy grin, the kind he gets after he’s taken a couple of hits of someone’s joint at a party. Artemi is slumped backward against his chest and looks stoned out of his mind, his legs shaking.

“Temi,” Patrick coos at him, opening his arms. “Baby.”

Jonny helps Artemi lay forward and get situated on Patrick’s chest; the high is slowly dissipating and Patrick feels much more comfortable once he has his omega in his arms. It’s not a crash - he doesn’t feel bad at all, actually, he just wants Artemi close. And Jonny, too.

“Jonny,” he whines once he doesn’t feel Jonny’s body heat next to him anymore.

“Hold on a sec, I’m getting more water,” Jonny says from the bedroom door. “And, uh - towels.”

Artemi squirms a little bit and hides his face in Patrick’s neck.

“How are you feeling?” Patrick asks him, rubbing up and down his back.

“Good,” Artemi says after a long pause. “Like - when you bite me, but - _again.”_

“Intense?”

Artemi nods. “It’s good. But - sleepy.”

“Mmm, that makes sense,” Patrick says. “You can fall asleep like this, I won’t be offended.”

Artemi laughs and leans up slowly to give him a kiss. “Promise?”

Patrick grins against his mouth. “Yeah, of course. I’d take it as a compliment, and it’s pretty much time for bed anyway.”

“Hmm,” Artemi hums, then lays his head back on Patrick’s shoulder and promptly passes out.

(Patrick may or may not fistbump Jonny once he gets back with more water.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a short little epilogue left! Thanks so much for reading, please let me know what you thought in the comments or on [tumblr](http://povverbottoms.tumblr.com)!


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